Taking Flight With The Crows
by BlackBatLicorice
Summary: Prequel to 'To Fly Where The Crows Fly' (can be read alone). Eliza Morrow arrives in Charming aged 16 with nothing but a troubled childhood and bad memories to keep her company. Watch as she meets the boys, finds the first family she's ever had, develops a crush on Tig Trager, and soon goes from scared little girl to the fierce-hearted woman we all know best.
1. Patience

_**So this is a prequel to 'To Fly Where The Crows Fly', set during Eliza's first early days after arriving in Charming. I'm still working on TFWTCF currently, but this is kind of a breather for me and a chance to refresh my palate. I hope you like it :)**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sons Of Anarchy.**

* * *

 **Chapter One: Patience**

 _ **I been walking the streets at night  
**_ _ **Just trying to get it right  
**_ _ **Hard to see with so many around  
**_ ** _You know I don't like being stuck in the crowd_**

 ** _~ Patience – Guns N Roses ~_  
**

"How did you sleep, honey?" It was my first morning waking up officially as a citizen of Charming. Just the night before my step-brother, Jackson, and his brothers from the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Bobby and Chibs, had collected me from the miserable little city I grew up in and delivered me to Charming to live with my father Clay. The question came from my step-mother, Gemma, who'd always been a better mother to me than my own.

"Okay," I answered a little shyly. Gemma placed a mug of coffee down in front of me.

"Good. You hungry?" I shook my head. Gemma watched me as I sipped the hot coffee. I knew what she was doing- she was taking me in, assessing my appearance. She'd been doing it since I was a little girl. "You're too thin," She decided finally, "And you could do with a haircut before you start school." My thick red locks _were_ pretty out of control- hung down to my waist now.

"When do I go to school?" I questioned. Dad had mentioned it on the phone before but I wasn't sure.

"Next week. We thought you'd need time to settle in but Charming High are holding your place for you." I nodded. I'd been an avid attendee of high school back home, but not because I exactly loved classes- I just liked not being at home with my mother and her motley crew of assorted crackheads and petty criminals. I wasn't sure how I'd fare in school here, but at least I knew I'd been enrolled in some art classes. Art was the only thing I loved. When I didn't say anything out loud, Gemma leaned across the dining table to me.

"Eliza, I am real sorry about your mother. I know I didn't see eye to eye with her, and I know that you didn't either- but still." I swallowed. That was basically exactly how I felt. When I found her body, I wasn't surprised she was dead- even in the couple of weeks since it'd happened, I'd come round to the idea that it might even be for the best for all of us. But I was still sad.

"Thanks," I said.

"Your Dad and I are really glad you're here with us now. So is Jax- so are the whole club." I wasn't sure about that. When I was younger, I knew the club better. I knew Piney, and of course Jax and Opie, his best friend. I'd known Otto, too, and his wife Luann, but Otto was in jail now. I vaguely remembered John, too, Jax's father, but he was dead now. Last night when I'd been introduced to them all, there were new faces- people who'd patched in since I'd last visited Charming. And I remembered the curly haired man in the parking lot as Jax took me back here- Tig? I'd heard his name before from Dad but I'd somehow never actually met him. Those blue eyes had gone right through me. I wasn't so sure they'd all be happy to have me here. I didn't know what to think.

"What if I don't fit in?" It was a childish question. I had gotten hopeful on the ride here, on the back of Jax's bike, that maybe I could find a life here that I didn't hate, like the one I'd hated before. But in the cold light of day and off the road it all seemed strangely impossible. I felt like a tiny drop in a massive ocean.

"Sweetie, you'll fit in. You'll find your place here. It's in your blood- we're your family." Gemma seemed so confident and self-assured. I couldn't imagine ever feeling like that, not the motherless sixteen year old girl in a town I hardly knew.

"Will you help me?" I felt even more childish then, but Gemma didn't seem to look down on me for it.

"I'll show you everything you need to know. Just follow my lead. I promise- you'll feel like you've been here forever in no time."

* * *

Gemma had left me to my own devices during the afternoon as she had errands to run, but in the late afternoon I heard the rumble of a bike outside the house and went out and opened the door. Opie was the one who'd pulled up, and I broke out into a grin when I saw him. He hugged me once he'd reached the door, his lanky frame leaning down to embrace me. I hadn't seen him yesterday.

"Good to see you're well," He said, by way of greeting, "Clay sent me to come get you." I tried to be understanding that Clay, SAMCROs President, didn't come and collect me himself. I'd only seen him briefly last night and this morning.

"Where are we going?" I asked, eager to get out of the house.

"Clubhouse. There's a little shindig going on to welcome you." My jaw dropped at this. I hadn't been expecting that.

"Shit. I'm not sure I'm ready for that," I openly admitted. I'd never been to a SAMCRO party, being underage, but I knew they could get wild. Nothing was really hidden from me.

"Gemma said you're finding it awkward, sitting one on one. A busy room of occupied people might be better for you to get your head round." I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guessed he was right- well, Gemma was. Of course Gemma was right. She'd never been wrong about anything.

"Okay," I agreed. I grabbed a jacket and my helmet- Dad had always kept one for me. It beat sitting around here, moping and feeling like an intruder in someone else's house.

"You alright on the bike?" Opie questioned as I closed the door behind me and followed him outside. I rolled my eyes.

"I've been on and off the back of bikes all my life," I reminded him.

"Not with me." I laughed. I had to admit, he was right about that one.

"Okay. I'm gonna be fine, Ope. Let's just do this." It was now or never.

* * *

The ride over to TM and the clubhouse was short. The sun was just setting as we pulled in and my Dad was waiting for us. Opie backed his bike into the line of them and cut the engine, and Clay was already beside me, helping me off. He hugged me immediately.  
"Sorry for springing this on you," He stated, "I haven't seen you enough since you got here, I know." I looked up at my Dad. He was by no means a perfect parent but I'd never doubted that he loved me. I'd felt distinctly unloved elsewhere, so it was easy to forgive him when he admitted that.

"Do I look okay?" I hadn't changed, but I'd been wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a plaid shirt which hung off the figure that Gemma had rightfully pointed out was too thin. I'd _always_ been too thin.

"You look beautiful. Now, I ordered you pizza. You can go sit in the kitchen in the clubhouse and eat. If you do a good job, I'll even turn a blind eye to a drink or two later- maybe," He added sternly. I laughed and linked my arm through his.

"Are you coming with me, Pop?" I questioned. He chuckled.

"Of course." There were a few people in the clubhouse, but not too many wearing kuttes yet. Mainly women- I knew they were probably a mix of old ladies and croweaters- and they were getting the place ready. I sat down and tucked into the pizza. Clay helped himself to a slice, but I was eating like I'd never eaten in my life. In fact, I had- Gemma had forced me to eat earlier on, regardless. Clay watched me for a while. Eventually, when I was slowing down on eating, he spoke: "How are you doing, Eliza?" I might get sick of that question. In fact, I was already beginning too. How did anybody _think_ I was doing? I made a decision not to be a bratty teenager, though, and answered:

"Okay, you know. Coping." It wasn't a lie. Everybody had been waiting for me to go to pieces- from the cops who'd come when I found Mom's body to the counsellors at my old high school. But I hadn't.

"I'm proud of you," Clay told me out of nowhere. I looked up at him, surprised. "What? I'm your Dad. I'm meant to say shit like that. But I really mean it, Ellie. You're doing so well." I winced at the childhood nickname. I'd stopped people calling me Ellie back when I was ten. It reminded me too strongly of my mother, whose name was Ellen. I didn't want to be compared to her. Clay still slipped up every now and then, though.

"Don't speak too soon, Dad," I said weakly, trying to make a joke of it. I was done with the pizza.

"I believe in you. You're _my_ daughter- you're made of strong stuff." Nobody was stronger than Clay Morrow, so I just nodded and agreed. Besides, even if I didn't always feel it lately, it was probably true.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza is a little shaky right now and not prepared for the world of the MC. Reviews are welcome!**


	2. Schools Out

**Chapter Two: Schools Out**

 _ **Well we got no class  
And we got no principals  
And we got no innocence  
We can't even think of a word that rhymes  
**_ **~ Schools Out – Alice Cooper ~**

A few hours later I was quite surprised to find I was enjoying the party. Clay had allowed me a couple of beers drank slowly, but at my age and size they'd definitely made me tipsy. Each one of the Sons had greeted me and so had many of the women around the club. I was passed around like a precious commodity and I was surprised to find that Gemma was right- I did feel loved. I knew that the party was tamer than usual because I was there, but I was glad for that for now. I'd take more in in small doses. Jax introduced me to his girlfriend, Wendy. She seemed sweet, but she had that slightly dosed out look of an addict. This made me rather uncomfortable, so I was glad when she and Jax disappeared off, though I'd much rather have spent more time with my brother.

Luckily, Chibs, the Scotsman who'd helped pick me up, seemed to take it upon himself to keep me company instead.

"How're ye doing, Little One?" His accent was definitely stronger thanks to the alcohol.

"Christ, not that question again," I joked. He laughed.

"Sorry. Let me rephrase- how's the party?" Chibs amended, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

"Good. Everybody's been really nice," I added truthfully. He nodded.

"They're under strict instructions. Ye seem like yer having fun though, lass. That's good." He looked at me a little closer than he had done before. In the background I could see a couple of croweaters eyeing him up. I bet their friendliness wouldn't last if they thought I was taking attention away from them too much. Chibs seemed to know what I was thinking. "Don't worry about them. Yer Clay's daughter- they'll learn to show ye some respect." It seemed absurd that they'd give a teenager any respect. I didn't say that though.

"It'll take a while to get used to," I admitted. It was easy to talk to Chibs.

"Aye. Charming is it's own little unique town. Own little unique set of people here too." Of course. His obvious foreignness couldn't have made adjusting all that easy. I looked at him. I wondered where and how he'd gotten his scars. He was quite good looking, even with them. As I was surveying him, with Chibs looking out at the party, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder that Chibs wasn't covering with his arm and I looked around. My eyes met blue.

"Come on, Chibby, don't hog the new girl," Tig teased. He was grinning at me playfully. One hand, covered in rings, was wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Sorry, doll. I'm Tig," He added, "In case you forgot." How could I forget?

"Watch yerself, Tigger," Chibs warned, letting go of me, "Jax is only up on the roof."

"Not me you need to worry about." Tig glanced off towards the bar and Chibs and I both followed his gaze. Another one of the Sons, the one called Kyle, was looking towards me but he looked away when we caught him. His facial expression was… predatory. I recognised it.

"Dirty old man even likes his sweetbutts to look like high schoolers. Creep." I was kind of surprised to hear Chibs talk about one of his brothers like that but I was good at keeping my face neutral.

"Surprised his old lady didn't leave a long time ago," Tig added.

"Do you two always gossip like old women?" If I wasn't tipsy then this never would've come out of my mouth. Both men looked at me in shock but then Tig burst out laughing, almost doubling over.

"Shit, she's funny too! God. We gotta keep this one," He said, looking at me once he'd recovered a bit. I smiled, embarrassed and strangely speechless now that Tig was talking directly to me. "Don't worry, doll. We'll look after ya. And if we don't, Jax'll kill us all."

"God knows he will," Chibs agreed, taking a swig of his drink, "He's worse than Clay."

* * *

"Hey," Juice greeted me as I came through the doors of the clubhouse. I'd been in Charming almost a week now- today was my last grace day before I'd start at my new school, and Gemma had taken me along to TM for the day but I was pretty bored. Juice was a relatively new Prospect, but Jax had known him for a while. He was a little younger than the other Sons, and had a sweet face. He also had tribal tattoos etched onto his scalp, which I found pretty interesting. He was unpacking bottles of beer which'd evidently been delivered. I started to help by putting them in the fridge behind the bar. "You don't need to do that," He told me.

"I don't mind. I'm bored," I shrugged, continuing. Juice worked beside me for a while without saying much. He was pretty easy to be around- comfortable but not imposing.

"You start school tomorrow, right? I remember Jax saying." I was surprised that'd stick in his head, to be honest. I smiled at him.

"Yeah. Hey, did you go to school here? I mean, are you from Charming, or…?" Jax and Opie were not the best people to ask for opinions on the schooling here in Charming. Being who they were, they'd been delinquents who'd spent more time out of school than in it. Saying that, Jax was a bit of a bookworm and I knew he'd done pretty well in spite of this.

"Nah. I grew up in Queens. My high school was a shithole," He laughed. "You'll be okay. You're nice and pretty and smart..." He trailed off somewhat awkwardly. It was the first time I'd felt awkward at all around Juice.

"Thanks?" I said it like a question, trying to placate him even though I wasn't sure why. He grimaced.

"Sorry. Uh… Clay and Jax pretty much said if we said anything out of line they'd have all our balls." I was not in the least bit surprised to hear this. Both of them were overprotective of me, but especially Jax. Clay, for some reason, had more faith in my ability to take care of myself and be smart than Jax did.

"You said I was nice and pretty and smart," I pointed out, "It's not like real flirting or..." I didn't have the first idea how to flirt, anyway. I still couldn't get a sentence out around Tig.

"Yeah, I know. I just didn't want you to think..." He was so honest. I smiled.

"Don't worry, Juicy. You're okay." He smiled back.

"Thanks," It was his turn to say.

* * *

My locks had been chopped to a more manageable length just below my shoulders. For once in my life I was going to school not looking pasty and underfed- though still thin, I was already looking healthier. I looked like I'd actually gotten some sleep, and my mother's junkie reputation wasn't following me around like some ball and chain. The morning I was due to start school, I looked in the mirror and didn't hate what I saw. My brown eyes were bright, my hair was shiny, and I was free.

Gemma dropped me to school but I went in alone. It was only as I walked down the corridors a little uncertainly that I realised I had a whole other reputation attached. Charming was, after all, a small town- and I was Clay Morrow's daughter here. Whether that was better or worse than being the daughter of Ellen James, though, remained to be seen. I collected my timetable and managed to find my way to my first class, glad the school wasn't very big. It was an Algebra lesson. I was terrible at math, but the teacher was pretty nice. He sat me next to a boy with a mop of dark hair that slightly fell into his eyes. As we were set to task, the boy turned in his seat to me.

"Hey, you're Eliza, right?" He questioned.

"Yeah," I replied, trying not to act like I found it weird he already knew my name. Small town, small school, I reminded myself. "What's your name?"

"Michael," He replied, "Michael Quinn." He held out his hand and I shook it. "You any good with numbers?" He wanted to know. I shook my head.

"Not at all," I admitted, "I always sucked at this."

"It's cool. It's the one class I'm good in," Michael informed me with a smirk, "We'll make a good team." He was one of those confident-in-himself types. It was ridiculous coming from a teenage boy, in my opinion, but then all the men that I knew were tough as nails. They didn't need to put on an act whereas this boy- he did. Still, he was the first person I'd spoken to and he was friendly.

It turned out, throughout the day, that I shared most of my classes with him. But in the ones where his friends were in there too, I was left to my own devices. A few of the girls were nice, but most of them in my grade stayed away. I kept my head down and decided I was going to stay out of trouble. The day was nearly over, and hadn't gone too badly, when it happened.

"Hey, Eliza Morrow, isn't it?" A very pretty blonde girl and a short skirt came hurrying to catch up with me in the hallway as I was about to head on out the door.

"Yeah," I said, a little tiredly. The whole day had been a constant whir of new faces. I doubted I'd remember all the names any time soon.

"I'm Dana Peterson," She informed me, "I'm a senior."

"Oh," I responded, for lack of anything else to say.

"How was your first day? Did it go well? The whole school has been talking about you since we heard you were gonna come here," She informed me. I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder a little higher.

"I caught that vibe," I admitted. We'd gotten outside now and I kept walking towards the gates.

"Anyway. Your step-brother is waiting across the street to take you home. I just saw him." Clay and Gemma had told me I'd get picked up from school on my first day but it depended on who was free to do it. I would've been happy that it was Jax who was picking me up if it wasn't for this: "Do you think you could introduce me?"

"Why?" I said listlessly. Her silence had me looking around. She was staring at me in complete disbelief.

"Jax Teller, right?" She said, "I mean, he's hot. I thought since we're friends..."

"We're not friends," It slipped out a little more harshly than I'd intended, "I just mean- I met you five seconds ago."

"I always see him around town. I've always wanted to meet him." She couldn't have been more sickening to me if she had actual hearts springing out of her eye sockets. I stopped walking and so did she. I mean, don't get me wrong, Jax _was_ good looking. He was as good as a blood brother to me so the idea made me want to puke, but I wasn't blind.

"Well…" I didn't know what to say to her. I didn't think Jax would appreciate me dragging up annoying high school girls though.

"Oh come on. _I've_ grown up here, I've always known the MC from sight. _You_ might not get it, but Jax is like, a hero." Her tone was getting clipped and unpleasant now, as if I needed the reminders that I was new here and an outsider.

"I just can't figure out why you think he'd be interested in meeting you," I retorted. Maybe my inner Gemma was coming out.

"All I'm asking is if I can say hi-" She began.

"Well, you can, but I'm not gonna help you."

"Look you don't have to be such a bitch-" I raised my eyebrows at her and dropped my bag by accident, but left it where it was, staring at Dana.

"You are in _high school_. Jax is a grown man, with a girlfriend too!" I pointed out, thinking of Wendy.

"That doesn't matter, or so I hear." I laughed humourlessly, pissed now.

"So you're just a little croweater in the making then. Nice." I picked up my bag and turned away with a shake of my head. Dana tutted and the next thing I knew she was grabbing my wrist, pulling me around.

"Bitch, you should apologise," She told me, her grip pinching painfully into my arm. She had those horrible fake nails about a foot long attached to her fingertips.

"Bitch, you should let the fuck go of me." She didn't let go. In fact, she held on even tighter.

"Or what?" She challenged. And the next thing I knew- and I didn't remember moving, or losing my temper, but I did- because the next thing I knew, pretty blonde mini croweater, Dana Peterson, was on her ass on the floor crying over a busted nose. As a crowd quickly gathered around us, I stared down at her in shock. I'd never done anything like that in my life.

One of the teachers who I didn't recognise but who'd obviously gotten wind of the commotion came running over, white in the face.  
"Oh my god. Dana, are you okay?" He was helping her up, looking at me in fury. "You. Principals office. NOW!" I stared at him. Was he serious?

"No." I should've known my first day couldn't actually go smoothly.

"You have seriously assaulted a fellow student, Miss-?" I wasn't about to tell him my name, but somehow he miraculously had no idea who I was. He clearly didn't live in Charming.

"I don't care," I stared at Dana's tears, feeling nothing. Some of her friends were rushing over to help her, looking aghast at me as they led her towards the school building. The teacher was staring at me in complete shock. "She shouldn't have pretended to want to talk to me just so she could drool all over my brother." A gasp rippled around the other students who'd gathered to watch.

"Miss-"

"She shouldn't have touched me. Shouldn't have called me a bitch." My mouth seemed to be moving of it's own accord and I had no control over it, other than the rush of anger inside me.

"Your behaviour and conduct is entirely unacceptable Miss-" The teacher was spluttering. But there was an interruption and I saw the tides part for Mr Robinson, the Principal, who someone must've called.

"What happened here?" He asked, seeing that Dana was gone but blood was on the ground.

"This student here just assaulted a fellow student, sir! And she is refusing to accept respons-"

"Fuck this. I'm going." I picked my bag up. "I'm tired of this shit already. If anyone else only wants me to introduce them to my brother, do me a favour and stay the fuck out of my way from now on."

"Look, Miss Morrow," The Principal actually managed my name. I interrupted him too. In for a penny, in for a pound at this point.

"Eliza. My name is Eliza." I didn't want to just be labelled as Clay's daughter. I knew ultimately I always would be tied to the MC by reputation, but being addressed formally that way grated on my nerves. It furnished the idea that I was some kind of local celebrity or a useful link to a set of contacts that clueless people thought they wanted to have. I loved the MC, but the reality was different and I had no interest in mixing my two worlds together. I walked away. The teacher who'd tried to tell me off loudly exclaimed:

"Come back here young lady!" But then an amazing thing happened- the second lesson I'd learned about Charming in the past few minutes:

"Just leave her. The last thing we want is _her_ parents coming up here..."

The second lesson was this: in Charming, my connection to the MC was my protection. Protection from danger, from consequences, and from drama if I wanted it to be that. There was no way any more silly bitches were going to mess with me after this. But the first lesson was what proved Charming to be a double-edged sword: my connection to the MC was also my exposure. Outsiders were dicey and I needed to be wary of that, for as long as I was in town. But as I strolled towards Jax, my hand still tingling from breaking Dana Peterson's nose, I actually felt pretty happy- I had a feeling I wouldn't be in a hurry to leave this town any time soon.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza made her presence known in Charming pretty early! Thanks for those who favourited.**


	3. Teenage Dirtbag

**Chapter Three: Teenage Dirtbag**

 _ **But she doesn't know who I am  
And she doesn't give a damn about me  
'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby  
**_ **~ Teenage Dirtbag – Wheetus ~** ** _  
_**

"Heard you beat the shit out of some girl at school," Piney remarked. He was sat at the picnic table outside the clubhouse. It was after school on a Friday, the end of my first week at Charming High in fact. I was just waiting for Gemma to finish up work and then we were heading home. She was having a dinner for all the family and I was meant to be helping prepare.

"I didn't exactly beat the shit out of her," I corrected, "Just busted her nose." And the message had been clear. I'd gotten away with the whole thing based on who I was, and nobody else had bothered me. Most of the other kids didn't seem too upset or worried, to be honest, which was a testament to how well they knew Charming and the MC.

"Good on you, Little One," Piney took a swig of his moonshine. His breathing was pretty bad. I eyed the bottle.

"Should you be riding and drinking?" I questioned. He laughed at me.

"No, I shouldn't. The Prospect is gonna take me in the van, don't worry kid." I nodded. Juice was in the garage, still hard at work. "Gonna have to give it up soon. Going for a three-wheeler." I was a little surprised. Piney was First 9 and like the rest of the club, he lived to ride.

"I suppose a trike still isn't a cage," I commented. He nodded, eyeing me speculatively.

"What d'you think of Donna?" Donna was Opie's fiancee. They were due to marry soon and I'd met her just the other day. I could tell she was reluctant to ingratiate herself with the MC and for good reason. Like the kids at school, she'd grown up in Charming. Donna was a couple of years older than me but she'd been nothing but sweet.

"She seems nice. He seems happy."

"That's what I figure," Piney nodded. "I like her. Just not sure she's old lady material. Bit soft." I looked at the old man, wondering why he was asking me of all people this question. He seemed to come out of a reverie and then he chuckled at himself. "Sorry. Just saw that you got friendly with her the other day. Nobody else has managed to get close." I nodded, understanding a little now.

"Eliza," Gemma's voice called from behind and I turned to see her strolling towards us, "Hey honey. How was school?" I shrugged.

"Okay. Glad it's the weekend," I replied. She nodded.

"Listen. I have a few loose ends to tie up here so I'm running a little late, but Tig said he'll give you a ride home. If you could please put the chicken in the oven for me, I'll be home as soon as I can. Your Dad shouldn't be too far behind me," Gemma added, and I saw Tig emerge from the office. My heart leapt up into my throat a little. I'd have to be alone with him. Jesus. I could still hardly speak to him.

"Sure. I'll do that," I promised, masking my nerves as Tig approached.

"Ready to go, kitten?" Tig asked, flashing those pretty blue eyes at me.

"Yeah," I managed to say, looking at Gemma and Piney for help- but they were oblivious.

"I'm sure ready to chop salad. Let's go." He put his big paw on my back and began to steer me towards the bikes.

"See you soon, Little One," Piney yelled after us. I gulped and waved.

* * *

I silently handed Tig a beer from the fridge once we were in the kitchen at Gemma's house. He looked at me in some surprise.  
"They got you well trained already," He noted. I smiled and went back to the fridge to pull the chicken out. "You know what you're doing there?" He asked as I began to prepare it.

"Yeah. I'm pretty self-sufficient," I replied, feeling like a moron. He chuckled.

"I can see that, Kitten." It was the second time he'd called me that. He sipped his beer then set it down on the side. "Right. Order me about. Tonight I'm your man." I made sure my long red hair fell to cover my blushing face when he said that.

"Could you peel potatoes," I pointed to where we kept the vegetables. He nodded and pulled the sack of them out, digging around in the drawers for a peeler. When he found it, he went to work. It was uncomfortably quiet so I flicked the radio on, relieved when it was tuned to a classic rock station. Music we both probably liked. Somehow the music gave me courage to speak. "So how come you gave me a ride? Must seem like babysitting." He smirked.

"Not quite." I felt myself flush again when his blue eyes raked my figure, but then he stopped himself. "You're Clay's kid. It's my job to help take care of you, Kitten." There it was again. I guessed that was going to be Tig's nickname for me. Everybody else called me Little One if not my name.

"Right." Was it wrong that I kind of wished he'd look at me like that again? Tig was exciting but he kind of scared the hell out of me. He was just so obviously… sexual. And dark. Anyway, there was more silence.

"Bet ya have a boyfriend already here to do that, huh?" Tig teased. I knew he was just trying to make conversation to save us from the silence but to be honest I was glad, even if the content was enough to make me blush again.

"No." I wasn't an idiot. Michael from school was obviously interested in me. He was nice, too, and pretty cute looking. But I'd never had a boyfriend or dated before, so I didn't really know what to think or how to even handle it. I was just happy that someone at school talked to me.

"Huh," Tig sniggered. "Probably for the best, Kitten. Boys are idiots. Wait 'til you're old enough for a man." He leant over to grab a knife to cut the potatoes from the knife block beside me. For a second I was looking right up at him while he stared down at me, very close. Close enough for me to smell him. He smelt like leather, fuel, and _something else_. I blinked and he stepped away, knife in hand.

"What about you?" I heard myself asking as I went back to preparing the chicken, switching on the oven to preheat. "Girlfriend? Old lady?"

"Nah. Don't have time for it, baby. Maybe if I found the right one, huh?" His eyes sparkled at me.

"I know what you mean." I honestly did, which surprised me probably as much as Tig.

* * *

I was sandwiched between Jax and Juice at the dinner table. The rest of the MC, plus Wendy, Luann and Donna were all crowded around the table along with Gemma and Clay. The atmosphere was warm and borderline uproarious. Everybody was in a good mood and somehow, I felt a part of that. Jax was keeping up a running commentary in my ear on everybody around the table and filling me in on the blanks in their conversation:

"Bobby's new wife, Precious, is kinda crazy. They just had another kid but he's still paying alimony to his ex. Luckily Precious couldn't make it to dinner," He told me, when Bobby was moaning about women and money. "Donna's Dad works chipping wood. Honest living but shit money," He added when Donna politely answered questions about her family. "Otto just went away to prison last year. You remember him, right? Luann's porn business is doing well anyway though," Jax explained about the porn queen. "Piney's Piney, you already know that…. Chibs has a daughter back in Belfast, he misses her a lot… Tig has an insane ex wife. Two daughters, he doesn't seem them much." I nodded to show I was following as he explained all of this. It was really helpful.

"So what's your commentary on me, Jackson?" I questioned my brother playfully.

"Eliza. She's a pretty cool kid. Just moved to town, her Mom was a deadbeat and her Dad is a thug," Jax nudged me in the ribs and I laughed. Clay caught the sound and looked over at me.

"What's funny?" He wanted to know. Jax and I both started laughing harder.

"Nothing, Dad," I said, accidentally jostling Juice as I reached for my soda. "Sorry Juicy. You okay?" The younger man had been quiet throughout the meal.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm good. Sorry."

"What for?" I noticed he seemed kind of down so I decided to try and distract him. I liked Juice- he was younger than the others and seemed more sensitive. "Did you get that new… what was it… for your computer?" He looked kind of surprised that I remembered him mentioning that but he perked up and started telling me all about it. I knew nothing about computers but I just nodded and smiled, pleased that I'd managed to distract him from whatever was bothering him. As I listened and ate at the same time, I could feel Gemma watching me. When I caught her eye, she gave me a strange sort of smile. I frowned questioningly and she shook her head, smiling wider. It was only once all the men were gone and I was helping her take dishes back through to the kitchen that she cornered me.

"You did real good out there," She told me, leaning against the counter to look at me speculatively. She said it as if I had completed some sort of given task.

"What do you mean?" I returned, piling plates up on the side.

"Got the food on the table. Made all the boys laugh, looked out for Juice. You even managed to handle Tigger on your own earlier on, so I hear," I looked around at her, my heart suddenly pounding in the way only a teenage girl with a crush can have their heart pound.

"W-what did you hear?" Gemma gave me a knowing look.

"He just told me you gave him his orders in the kitchen," She smirked. "You be very careful, young lady." She said the last part more teasingly than anything. For some reason my palms were sweating.

"Of what?"

"You're pretty tough but you're still a kid. Don't let anything less than fire and sledgehammers take down those walls you've got around that soft heart. Men like Tig break hearts over breakfast." I swallowed, wanting to be busy and act like I was totally nonchalant as far as this conversation wasn't concerned, but Gemma had this look on her face that told me she'd see right through that act.

"I'm not interested in Tig," I lied. "And like you said, I'm a kid. It wouldn't happen anyway."

"I know," Gemma's dark eyes gleamed in a way which said that her words should've ended in 'you're lying'. "You're SAMCROs own princess now. The second you turn legal those assholes will be crawling all over you like flies on shit. Until then, be sensible. Date someone from school or something. Keep your head down 'til you can weather a shitstorm or two by yourself. Understand?" I nodded. "Good. You can leave these dishes, honey, you did enough tonight. Why don't you go relax and paint pictures or whatever it is you do?" Dismissed, I headed up to my bedroom.

This had been my bedroom when I came to visit for as long as Clay and Gemma had been together. My memories before that were the dim memories of a small child, when Clay had his own place and I stayed there. It was next door to Jax's old bedroom and he used to read bed time stories to me when I stayed over. He'd taken on being my 'big brother' wholeheartedly from day one.

As I sat and drew, which is what I always did in my spare time, I thought about what Gemma had said about dating. I wasn't so sure I wanted to date, really, but I could see her point. Better to focus on my normal, high school life and be like a normal teenager for now, until I was older and more capable of handling myself. I certainly wasn't ready for the likes of Tig- I was certain of that after tonight, that brief moment he'd stood so close to me. Obviously for him there was nothing in it- a brief moment of flirting but only in jest, then strictly he was my Dad's best friend. That was all. Just like the rest of the Sons- like Chibs and Bobby and Piney- he was helping to look out for me, settle me into MC life and Charming. That was all I was ready for right then- settling into my new life. No sudden movements, Eliza. The first order was to make some friends- friends outside of the MC, preferably.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza has her first conversation alone with Tig. How awkward! If only she knew the future eh ;) thanks so much for reading, please drop me a review if you have the time!**


	4. In Bloom

**Chapter Four: In Bloom**

 _ **We can have some more  
Nature is a whore  
Bruises on the fruit  
Tender age in bloom  
**_ **~ In Bloom – Nirvana ~**

"So. There's this party on Saturday night," Michael Quinn mentioned midway through our morning Algebra class. I had been frowning down at the equation that I was failing to balance and I didn't look up. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

"Yeah?" I'd been in Charming for a little over a month now, and for the most part things were getting a little easier. The townspeople seemed to have gotten over seeing me around, and I was finally starting to feel comfortable at home with Clay and Gemma.

"It's not just high school kids. It's like an unofficial homecoming bash, since this school is too cheap to hold it's own. Anyway, it's just outside of town, on a little bit of land owned by Oswald."

"So it's being held illegally," I raised an eyebrow, still determinedly avoiding Michael's eye. He was cute but not exactly original.

"Do you care?" He snickered. We'd been over the topic of who my family were some time ago. One thing I could say for him was that he actually had a healthy respect for SAMCRO, and a natural interest- but he was a little bit obsessed with bringing up the fact I was the President's daughter.

"No," I laughed anyway. In the past month I'd overheard a couple of things accidentally that I shouldn't know about- stuff about guns and Mayans, for example. Stuff I'd already decided I'd rather keep out of.

"Well… do you wanna go with me?" He asked this question in a rush, betraying his nerves underneath his usually confident manner. The honest answer was no. I didn't want to go a shitty party out in the woods with a bunch of high school kids and Charming High alumni with a nice but relatively boastful boy in my Algebra class. Still, lately Gemma had been nagging me. For all I'd said I'd try to make friends and live my life, I hadn't really managed to. The only person outside the club I'd really connected to was Donna, Opie's fiancée. Somehow we just clicked and whenever she unwillingly found herself around the club, she tended to stick with me. I guess I was the closest girl in age to her, and we usually ended up in stitches laughing at something or another. But Donna was a little older than me so outside of the clubhouse, which she didn't really like coming to, we couldn't exactly go barhopping together or anything.

"Okay," I agreed with Michael a little reluctantly. I glanced at him through my hair and saw a very pleased grin spreading across his face.

"Yes! I mean, that's cool. I'll pick you up at eight-"

"Actually," I interrupted, images of Jax and Clay breathing down our necks filling my mind, "I'll meet you." Michael covered his surprise and slight annoyance well.

"Oh, all right. I live on Ferdinand Street. Come by mine? I'll drive." I nodded.

* * *

"So is it a date?" Clay demanded. We were sat over dinner that night and he had fixed me with his cold blue stare.

"Not really," I answered. That was the truth. I had an idea that Michael thought of it as a date but I definitely didn't. "Just a party." He narrowed his eyes at me but I stared right back. I wasn't lying, after all. Finally, Gemma intervened.

"Let her go, Clay. Eliza's smart, and she should be out having fun with kids her own age. Where's the harm?" Clay didn't look like he wanted to hear this, but he knew better than to argue with Gemma.

"Fine. But don't drink too much, don't get in a car with anyone who has been drinking, and you call me right away if anything happens that I should know about. And I don't want you back too late, either. This boy said he's gonna drop you home but if he lets you down, you call home. Okay?" I didn't protest to any of these rules. To be honest, I was still being allowed to do way more than the average girl my age, who'd be sneaking out of their house or saying they were at sleepovers on Friday if they wanted to go to this thing.

"Yeah, Dad," I agreed, "Okay."

* * *

"You're not going anywhere dressed like that," Jax snapped when I entered the room, ready to go on Friday evening. I groaned when I came into the room fully and saw he wasn't the only one there- so were Clay, Opie, Bobby, Chibs and Tig. Right at the back of the lounge was Kyle Hobart. I was going to argue with Jax about the short skirt, but I did tug the hem down a little.

"It's not that bad," I said nervously. "Is this really necessary?"

"No, it's not." Gemma came through from the kitchen carrying sandwiches on a plate, looking annoyed.

"I think it is," Clay countered mildly. I rolled my eyes, looking to my step-mother for help. She put the sandwiches down on the coffee table, which the guys pounced on immediately, and came over to me. I wasn't wearing much make-up as that wasn't really my thing, and I'd put on a sweater to counteract the short skirt.

"You look good, baby. I'm gonna drop you off to Michael's, save you the humiliation of the Dad Committee." I breathed a very audible sigh of relief. I'd suddenly had a very horrible vision of my own future, where every boy would permanently be scared the hell away by this rough group of very intimidating bikers I called family.

"Thank you," I responded to Gemma, really meaning it.

"Before you go," Clay called. I turned back, wincing. Even food wasn't enough of a distraction. "I'm going with Bobby and Kyle on a run tonight. Your step-mother said there's no need for me to sit at home waiting up for you," He gave Gemma a half-playful, half-pissed kind of look, "But just because I'm gonna be out of town doesn't mean I won't know exactly where you are and what you've been doing."

"Holy shit, Dad," I said tiredly.

"This is serious, sis," Jax added, "If that little creep tries anything with you-"

"Jackson," Gemma interrupted sternly. Jax cast a dark look towards her but shut up.

"Look, Little One," Bobby chuckled, more lightly than either Clay or Jax, "I knew your Mom. God bless her, but we all also know that back home you didn't have much hands-on parenting going on. All your Dad and brother are trying to say is, we _do_ care what happens to you. We want you to have fun, but take care of yourself." It was easier coming from Bobby. Maybe because he didn't phrase everything like a goddamn threat.

"I get it," I told them all, looking at Gemma pleadingly, "Can I go now?" She nodded and headed for the door. As we climbed into Gemma's car, she looked over at me.

"Sorry about that. I told Clay you didn't need a scene. He said he had a lesson to teach." I rolled my eyes as I buckled up and Gemma started the engine. Michael's house was pretty much the total other side of town. I sighed to myself as we hit the road. Gemma glanced at me. "He's your Dad. He's just gotten used to having you around- he doesn't wanna lose you again so soon."

"I wasn't thinking about that." Strangely enough, that I could understand. I kept waiting for the moment I'd be told my vacation from my shitty life was over and I had to go back to my Mom's.

"What's up, sweetheart?" She inquired.

"Don't know." Jax mentioning Michael possibly _trying something_ with me had somehow struck a chord. I had only been kissed once- and it was very much against my will, by some creep hanging around my Mom's when I was fourteen. I never ever thought about that time. Because I had shoved him straight off me, and when he'd pawed at me again I'd seized the syringe he'd prepared of smack and stabbed him in the arm with it. I'd had a lucky escape, but I'd had to resort to something so… violent, debauched, I didn't have the right word for it… well, I was my father's daughter alright. And the fact that my mother had blamed me after for wasting good shit, rather than ask if I was okay… sometimes I really had no idea who I was. But I wasn't about to tell Gemma any of that.

"You don't do anything you don't wanna do," Gemma read my mind at least a little, like always. "If it doesn't feel good, don't do it."

* * *

Michael jabbered non-stop on the drive from his house to the patch of woody land this party was happening on. A bonfire had been lit in the middle, and was surrounded by kegs and drunk teenagers. Someone had brought speakers and music was blaring. I rolled my eyes both at the fire and the volume of music.  
"This is gonna get us caught sooner rather than later," I remarked. Michael grinned.

"Half the fun is running away from the cops. D'you want a drink?" Things between us were awkward outside of school, that was for sure. He'd talked non-stop but I'd sat in the front passenger seat feeling increasingly moronic. At least Michael hadn't made any funny moves, which I was thankful for.

"Sure," I agreed. He dragged me to the nearest keg, grabbing two solo cups and filling them up with more foam than beer. I didn't complain, though. I drank it pretty much in one as I looked around. As he'd said, there were a few people here who were definitely a little older.

"Woah," Michael said, evidently impressed at my drinking skills. I rolled my eyes; since being in Charming, I'd been to a couple of fight nights and two SAMCRO parties, including the welcoming one they'd thrown for me. I was quickly getting used to alcohol. Of course, this would be the first time I'd drank any outside of the clubhouse, and Clay had me under strict warning to not get drunk… but a little social lubrication wasn't going to hurt me, either. I shrugged and refilled, turning the cup this time so that it didn't foam up as much. Michael also looked impressed by that. I liked Michael but I was quickly realising that he was more of my fanboy than my friend- or date, or whatever the hell this was.

A little of the night passed and I actually had kind of a good time. I spotted Dana Peterson and when she saw me she walked away very fast, which I found hilarious, and Michael introduced me to a few people from school I didn't really know, plus some alumni who had gone off to college. I was offered a swig of vodka here, a shot of Jack there. A couple hours passed and Michael went off to pee. It was only then, leaning against a tree near the bonfire, I realised I was drunk.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself. I fumbled around in the small purse I'd brought and yanked out my phone. I had a couple text messages- one from Gemma, telling me to have a good night, and one from Jax, warning me not to have too good of a night. I pursed my lips at the latter, annoyed. I glanced around- where had Michael gotten to?- when somebody said my name.

"Eliza?" I looked around and it took me a second to make out the face, what with the fire causing an orange halo around her figure. But I was surprised to find myself face-to-face with Donna, Opie's girl. "I thought it was you earlier but I wasn't sure!" She smiled brightly.

"Hey, what're you doing here?" I asked, grinning, glad to see a friendly face.

"My cousin Drew is back from college and he dragged me along. My other invite was the clubhouse, so..." Donna shrugged. "Glad you're here though. It's all college idiots or high school kids."

" _I'm_ a high school kid," I pointed out. She smiled.

"True but you don't act like one. I saw you were with that boy earlier. He's pretty cute."

"Michael's okay," I shrugged. She raised her eyebrows. "Gemma keeps telling me to get out more, and he invited me here with him so… I mean… It seems like he's ditched me now, anyway. Been gone ages."

"Has he tried to kiss you yet?" Donna questioned. I laughed.

"No."

"Then he'll be back," She winked, her blue eyes sparkling. I laughed again. Donna was really easy to talk to- and fun, too.

"That what happened with Opie?" I asked, kind of unable to imagine the gentlest of giants and Jax's best friend in those terms. "I've known Ope forever but it's still hard to picture him as a teenage boy." I'd known Opie as a teenager but even back then he'd been kind of pensive and serious. Funny, dry and sharp as always, but moody. I couldn't imagine him excitedly asking a girl to come to a kegger on Oswald's land.

"Opie can be really sweet," Donna informed me. "But he was shy. It took all through high school to get him to actually ask me out. He dated other girls in the meantime." Well, that was food for thought- almost like Gemma might've given him the same advice she'd given me…

"I see," I said, smiling at her. "How long before we get caught?" I indicated the fire and the amount of noise and attention this party evidently would draw. We were off the road but not far enough that someone driving by wouldn't notice a disturbance.

"I give it half an hour. I was gonna head off when I saw you actually. Did you want a ride, or…?" I was tempted. Donna wasn't drunk, so I wouldn't be violating Clay's rules, and she was the best chat I'd had all night. Still, I spotted Michael coming back towards me holding more drinks.

"Should probably stay here," I said, indicating him. She turned to look at him and smiled, winking at me

"Okay. Take care of yourself, Eliza. It was nice talking to you." I was surprised when she hugged me. People I knew didn't really do hugs, but I guessed Donna was different. I hugged her back. "Get home safe, okay?"

"Thanks. See you, Donna." Michael came over and handed me another beer. He also had a bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm. I eyed it with trepidation- I was definitely already drunk and by the way he was staggering on the spot, so was he.

"Who was that?" He asked me, watching her retreating back.

"A friend," I answered, accepting the beer reluctantly. He smiled at me.

"You look pretty, by the way. Should've told you earlier." He was definitely drunk- not that he was shy, but in typical teenage boy fashion he hadn't exactly taken much note of my appearance before.

"Thanks, Michael." He put his arm around my waist, which I found kind of uncomfortable but I didn't push him away. I knew what was about to happen. He was staring at me hard, which was obviously difficult for him as his eyes were struggling to focus. Okay, so I was tipsy, but I definitely wasn't _that_ bad. "Think I've had enough," I said, indicating the beer. He laughed and downed the rest of his before taking mine and chugging it too. Tossing the cups to the ground, he waved the whiskey at me.

"Dare me?" He grinned widely.

"I think you've probably had enough too..." I started to say, but he already had the cap off and was taking a swig of it. He spluttered when he swallowed it, evidently disgusted by the taste and at the burn. I saw the Sons doing shots of whiskey all the time without ceremony, so to be honest it was sort of hilarious to me that he was doing the big man act. I laughed at him this time. He mistook it for me being impressed. His grip on my waist tightened. He was staring at my mouth.

"You know, everyone at school wants you but they were too scared to ask you out," Michael informed me, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah?" I asked. Shit. I knew exactly what was going to happen now. Did I want him to kiss me, or not? He was cute, and we'd had a pretty good time at the party, but I'd had just as much fun briefly with Donna or anyone else… then again, he was a boy, maybe that was what it was like? I had no idea. I was running out of time to figure it out, too.

"Not me though. You're really hot, and I know a few of the girls think I am, so figured we'd make a good couple ya know..." And then it happened. As predicted, Michael Quinn kissed me.

Given he was drunk and probably as inexperienced as I was, I immediately already knew this kiss wasn't gonna down in history as memorable. He was sloppy and clumsy, but it wasn't totally unpleasant. I didn't really kiss him back, per se, but I didn't shove him off. I wanted to kind of feel the moment out, see if it was what I wanted, since I hadn't been able to figure it out otherwise. After a few seconds, he stepped back. His eyes were bright. I didn't get a chance to speak. And then he made a mistake- he pretty much lunged for me, trying to kiss me again.

"Michael," I put my hands up to his chest to stop him getting close. He frowned, looking confusedly down at me.

"What?"

"I- I don't-"

"But we just-" And at that moment, the sirens started up in the distance, rapidly drawing closer.

The reaction of everyone else at the party was instant. Immediately, teenager started running from the scene, grabbing belongings and booze and making a dash for the area off the access road where most of them had parked their cars. Only some of them, I'm pretty much, were below the limit to drive but the vast majority were minors. Yells about the cops filled the air and everyone else without a vehicle or ride was left to scatter. Michael grabbed my hand and started yanking me along.

"Come on, the car-"

"What?" I asked, a little slow to react.

"I'll drive you home," He couldn't even walk in a straight line, he was stumbling all over the place. I planted my feet and pulled back, refusing to budge. Clay had only given me three rules, and they were pretty clear and simple: _don't drink too much._ Well, I'd failed that. But the second one was, _don't get in a car with anyone who has been drinking._

"You're drunk. You shouldn't be driving," I told him.

"I'll be fine, but the cops are coming-"

"We could get into an accident, Michael, you shouldn't be driving-"

"Then how the fuck else are we meant to get home?" In his drunk state he was getting angry. "Fuck, I drove you here, invited you along, now I'm trying to stop you getting arrested and-"

"-By getting me wrapped around a lamppost?" I cried. The crowds of teenagers were really dwindling now, and the sirens had been cut, which meant the cops had parked and were probably coming now to break the party up and catch whatever stragglers they could to shame them.

"Fine. You do what you want. I'm going home." And without any further ado, he stormed off, leaving me alone amongst the trees. I stood for a moment, looking out after him, but then I heard the cops emerging into the little clearing, so I had no choice but to take off into the trees, looking for my phone to call home before I got caught.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza has been to her first high school party but things have gone a little wrong! Is Michael sweet, a total jackass, or a bit of both? Shoutout and thanks to Katrina and readermind for reviewing 3 Just in case anyone was worried, I am definitely still updating TFWCTF too so look out for that!**


	5. Level

**Chapter Five: Level**

 _ **My baby's on the level  
I try to read her mind  
She's on the straight and narrow  
And I'm guessing all the time  
**_ **~ Level – The Raconteurs ~**

I stumbled around through the woods at the edge of Oswald's land for a bit, trying to get to the road. My cell phone, typically, decided that then was a good time to have no signal and I lost track of the other kids from the party who'd tried to make a break for it. I was still seething after Michael acted like such a jackass. So help me if I opened up the newspaper tomorrow and found out he was dead. Dead stupid, more like it. Then again, if I hadn't decided to listen to Clay, I might be home by now.

"Police," Came a voice through the dark, and I sighed and stopped where I was. I wasn't getting away now.

"Wonderful," I muttered. The white flashlight was shone unforgivingly directly into my eyes. The cop peered at me for a second and then flipped the light off. It was shadowy without but I could just about make his face out. He was younger than I expected- had a perfect Boy Scout haircut, too. He sighed.

"Aren't you Clay's kid?" He sounded grumpy. I might not have been in Charming for long but I knew Gemma's number one rule about cops and questions:

"Who's asking?" I returned with my own.

"Sergeant Hale," Came the answer. "The cop catching you drinking underage." The name rang a bell for sure.

"Your family are meant to be some big deal in Charming, right?" I was blunter than usual when drunk, obviously. And Hale was just as snarky in response:

"Aren't yours too?" To avoid laughing at his admittedly funny response, I sort of snorted derisively.

"Touché, Sarge. You arresting me or what?" I asked tiredly. At least if I was picked up by the cops Clay wouldn't go insane thinking I wasn't safe. Who knows, Gemma might even be a little proud of me. Hale was looking at me through the trees though.

"It'd be a waste of time and money. Besides, you're a minor. I'm gonna take you home, but your parents are gonna have to be informed." I could tell that he was stretching the truth though. Technically, he could and probably should kick up a bigger fuss. Thanks to SAMCRO, Charming didn't exactly have a whole lot of crime going on other than this stupid party to deal with. I frowned. He seemed to sense what I was thinking. "There were people overage at this party supplying alcohol to minors. More interested in them." Another white lie, but I didn't argue anymore. I just nodded and let him lead me out to the road, which I was annoyed to discover wasn't much further than I'd been.

Hale held the door open for me and I climbed in. We were silent for some of the drive, the roads quiet at this time of night.

"Your friends split on you or?" Hale asked after a while.

"No. Well, sort of." Hale grunted and for some reason I felt the need to add: "He was drunk and I wouldn't get in a car with him driving." Hale glanced at me.

"You do have some sense then," He commented. I frowned, annoyed.

"Excuse _me_ , Captain America, but you don't even know me." It might just be a little bit stupid to antagonise a cop, of course, but something about Hale just irritated me. He seemed like such a little jobsworth, despite him dropping me home rather than writing me up.

"Because stumbling around drunk in the woods in the middle of the night is a real smart move," He growled. I rolled my eyes.

"Point taken, but I didn't even really wanna come tonight. I was taking this 'normal teenager' shit out for a spin." Hale looked my way again but this time I saw something a little different in his expression.

"I heard about your mother. I'm sorry." I shrugged. "Figured this might be what it was. Acting up because of that."

"Why do you care?" I snapped, half-childishly, half-defensively. Hale gave a very tired sigh.

"Because I'm a cop, and you're a troubled kid from my town. Even with the odds stacked against you, I don't wanna see you go down a bad path. You've shown me tonight you're at least half-smart, right? Self-preservation. I'd hate to see that go because of grief and… outside influences." He meant the club. I rolled my eyes again but I didn't respond. A few minutes later we were pulling up outside the house. The door opened before I was even out of Hale's car and I expected to see Gemma emerge. What I got was far far worse- it was Jax.

"Shit." Hale glanced at me as we went up to the door. My brother glared down at me.

"What the hell is this, kid?" He demanded.

"Is Gemma around? I need to talk to her," Hale told Jax. When they stood facing each other I realised they were probably the same age, but with Jax's kutte and his long blonde hair they couldn't be more different.

"She's asleep. I can take it from here," Jax told him. The two men glared at one another until Hale finally seemed to decide that as I was home now it wasn't worth arguing. Jax glared at me. "Get inside." I sighed and did as I was told, leaving the two on the porch to 'discuss' tonight's events.

* * *

"Here," Jax handed me coffee but to be honest I was already pretty much sober by now. All I wanted to do was go to bed. But he sat on the couch next to me with his own coffee and I had a feeling I was in for a brotherly chat.

"I could've left with Donna, but Michael was meant to take me home. I didn't realise he'd be so drunk and when I did I-" I started to explain, but Jax shook his ehad.

"Hale already told me you wouldn't get in a car with him driving." I nodded, waiting for what was next. Jax didn't say anything for a while so eventually I decided to talk:

"I know I'm new to town and you didn't want me to go to this party, but you don't have to worry so much about me you know," I stated. "I was gonna call home the second I got signal and out to the road."

"I _do_ have to worry about you, kid. You're my little sister." He gave me a small smile which told me that he wasn't actually that mad now.

"I'm not little anymore," I pointed out. "I mean, I know I'm still only sixteen, but I'm not helpless."

"That's what worries me," Jax returned. I rolled my eyes and sipped the coffee. Ironically, I had to stifle a yawn immediately afterwards. "This isn't what I wanted to talk about, exactly. Sis… you're a really good kid. Smart. Not like I was smart either, but I mean life smart. You've been through a shitload recently- well, your whole life pretty much. But Charming… the life you're a part of… if you handle it wrong it can swallow you whole. We all love having you here… but none of us wants to see you make a wrong turn. And it's so easy to let it lead you astray and before you know it you're a croweater, a junkie, knocked up by the wrong guy..."

"You're my mother," I summarised with a smile. Jax looked at me partly in shock. "I don't think me going to one party is gonna get me hooked on crank, okay?" He did actually crack a grin at that. "Jax, I'm actually _not_ in that much of a hurry to grow up. I'm just trying to figure shit out. Trying to enjoy myself for once, okay? Tonight was a mistake, but before Michael got trashed and the cops showed up, I was actually having _fun_. You and Hale both need to chill out- I'm not gonna turn into some crazy delinquent just because of my dead Mommy, alright? Your Mom's still alive and it made no difference to you."

"Hey!" Jax protested, but he was laughing now.

"But if you wanna talk about the life swallowing someone whole and them turning into my mother," I said, setting the mug of coffee down and standing up to stretch, determined to get some sleep. Jax looked up at me. "It's not me you need to keep an eye on." Everything he'd said pretty much described Wendy. I think he clicked onto that because his blue eyes lit up with surprise and something else. "Night, bro."

"Sleep well, sis."

* * *

Michael pretty much avoided me in school after that night. I was a little bit deflated at first, because he was pretty much the only one in that place I spoke to, but I'd never had friends at school before so I didn't let it bother me. The weeks ticked by and turned into a couple more months. Life in Charming randomly started coming together. Gemma taught me to drive, Clay got Lumpy to give me a weekend job at the boxing gym and Hale and I continued to exchange snarky comments whenever we saw one another. Donna and Opie's wedding was approaching when she announced she was pregnant, and soon after that Jax and Wendy announced they were engaged. In amongst this latest round of festivities, trouble erupted around the club and I was taken in for my first ever lockdown.

I was prodded awake by Gemma at God knew what time in the morning. It was still dark outside and I blinked blearily up at her.  
"Hey, baby," She said quietly, "It's time to get up. We've gotta get shit set up." I rubbed my eyes when I sat up, completely confused and disoriented.

"Set up what?" I mumbled, trying to get my sluggish brain to grind into motion.

"The clubhouse. We're going on lockdown. Trouble with the Mayans." Gemma was grabbing clothes out of my closet and packing them up for me as I dressed, still half asleep. I looked at the clock and it was hardly any past four in the morning. I surmised that I wouldn't be going to school, though as it was Friday anyway it didn't hurt if I missed one day.

When we got down the stairs, Clay and Tig were waiting for us. Clay looked tired and I realised he'd probably only just gotten home himself, as he still had his kutte on and his helmet in hand. He hugged me when he saw me though.  
"Sorry for having to get you up so early, sweetie. This is about keeping you safe, okay?" I nodded as he let me go.

"Yeah, Dad."

"You're gonna help Gemma out, alright? Tacoma are coming down, they'll be here by the afternoon, but all the other families are going to be at the clubhouse before then. Tig's gonna be behind you and Gemma whatever you do. You stick with them, okay?" I looked at the other man, who winked one of his vivid blue eyes at me. I was, thankfully, too tired to blush or react like I normally would. One thing I'd learned quickly was that Tig was the only one that Clay actually trusted to protect me and Gemma. He'd told me that when I was older, more used to things, I'd get more freedom- maybe pick someone I trusted myself, but until then Tig would be in my shadow whenever there was danger. This was the first time I'd really seen trouble for the club land anywhere close to home though.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked, forcing myself to be more alert. I saw Clay and Gemma exchange a look and my father actually looked proud when he glanced back at me.

"Make everyone feel welcome, baby. Take care of us all. Okay?" He spoke like SAMCROs President to me then instead of my father, and it made me understand. I stood up a little straighter.

"Of course."

* * *

I was fading like a ghost by lunchtime, when the guys from Tacoma finally roared through the gates at the TM lot. Gemma was inside with a few croweaters, slaving over the food she'd prepared for everyone, and I'd ducked outside just to get away. One thing I'd quickly figured out about lockdown was that it meant a lack of space. The entire Redwood Original charter were inside that clubhouse, along with every old lady, every kid, every sweetbutt, not to mention extended family. It baffled me to try and envision where the hell everyone was going to sleep.

"Look who it is," A voice coming from beside me made me jump out of my skin. I really must be tired if I didn't notice that Tig was right next to me. His blue eyes were narrowed in the direction of one of the Tacoma guys who'd just dismounted his Harley. The guy in question was blonde, grinning brightly enough to blind, and joking around with his brothers. Tig took my glance as a question, which was good because my voice had abandoned me the second I realised he was there. "Kozik. He's an asshole." Bobby had mentioned something earlier about how having Tigger and Kozik in the same place was going to be 'fun'. I swallowed. "Come on Kitten. Let's go have a beer."

Clay had kind of been tightening up on my access to alcohol since the night of that party, but then again my tolerance had greatly improved so it was easier to get away with. I was guided irresistibly inside by Tig's hand on my shoulder, and I was so aware of it that I didn't try to wrangle a way out. Besides, I was sick of cooking already and Gemma had it covered. Juice and Piney were sat on stools at the bar, watching the activity projected onto the screen behind it from the cameras outside the clubhouse.

"Tacoma's here then," Piney surmised unnecessarily. "You gonna behave yourself this time, Tigger?"

"I behaved myself last time, old man," Tig retorted, "It was _him_ being a douchebag that-"

"Ain't it time you got over it?" Piney interrupted. Tig glared at the old man coldly but didn't argue anymore.

"Dana, two beers," He said instead, which made me blink and actually look at the girl serving behind the bar instead of Juice. _Dana_? And it was- Dana Peterson, from school, the girl who's nose I'd busted on my first day at Charming High. She did pop the beers open and place them in front of Tig, but her eyes fell on me at roughly the same time I realised who she was and she froze, her face flushing. She mumbled something to Tig and hurried away, apparently very busy all of a sudden. I watched her go.

"Who _is_ she?" Juice questioned.

"That's the latest piece of ass that Kyle dug up from wherever," Piney grunted. He, like all the men in SAMCRO, liked his women younger but I did notice he drew the line. I wasn't there to judge- I had a crush on the man beside me who was at least twice my age if not more, but the fact he didn't seem to approve of Dana gave me a kind of savage pleasure.

"She showed up at the party last week, throwing it around," Tig added. "Ain't been there yet, though." I felt a ripple of annoyance when Tig talked about her like that. Of course he'd probably fuck her if she was putting it out there- living up to my estimation of her as a blossoming croweater. The words burst out of my throat before I could stop them:

"She's the bitch I beat up at school for trying to use me to meet Jax." All three of the men looked at me, a little stunned. I didn't usually tend to talk like that in front of them. After a beat of silence, Piney started laughing.

"Shit, Little One- Gemma's worked wonders on you," He chuckled. Juice looked like he didn't know what to think. He looked toward Dana uncertainly. She was now serving the noisy Tacoma boys who'd finally made it into the clubhouse.

"If you know her from school is she, at least, legal?" Juice sounded worried. I looked at him, mortified, suddenly understanding why. Tig might not've been there but Juice had.

"She's a senior," I told him a little more quietly. "Most likely already eighteen, or near enough." He nodded, not really looking completely reassured. I didn't blame him.

"Atta boy, Juicy," Tig clapped the prospect, his soon-to-be brother, on the back. Juice shook his head, looking morose before shuffling off. I watched him go, and I felt anger replace my annoyance from before. "Damn, Kitten. You look ready to start busting bitches balls again."

"I don't want her here," I stated coldly. She was definitely going to be more trouble than she was worth- I could already see it. Jax was stood the other side of the room, arm around Wendy, talking to Clay. I had no doubt what Dana's final aim was and if she had to fuck every club member to get to him, she'd probably do it. I doubted it'd result in a statutory rape case or anything as literal as what Juice feared, but shit could get uncomfortable fast. I could understand that even more seeing the sheer amount of loved ones crammed into one building for lockdown. For the first time, my concern for my new family triggered an instinct in me- a protective one, maybe, if that was the word. But I could see clearly why Gemma was cautious about newcomers around the club now- many came with bells, bad smells and neon flashing warning signs attached.

It was Piney who leant over, putting his hand on my shoulder. He was still smiling but there was a wicked, serious glint in his eye.

"So get rid of her," He said, quietly.


	6. Golden Touch

**Chapter Six: Golden Touch**

 _ **That kind of girl, yes, she's never alone  
You leave a thousand messages on her phone  
But you know you never get through  
And you could have it all if you wanted, girl  
You could have it all if it matters to you  
**_ **~ Golden Touch – Razorlight ~**

I was puzzling it out all day, going about the clubhouse and doing what I'd been told to do- trying to make everyone feel comfortable and helping Gemma where she needed it, but my eyes kept going back to Dana. She was behind the bar, laughing, flirting with everyone. I had no problem with the other croweaters, but I hadn't liked this girl from the second I met her. At one point Jax went up to get a beer and she'd flicked her long blonde hair in his direction, practically shoving her chest into his face. To be fair, he'd just kind of looked a little uncomfortable, probably because she was so young and the fact that Wendy was there. In a corner, getting drunker and drunker as the day went on, Juice sat. I was sat nursing another beer of my own on a couch and thinking it over when someone sat next to me.

"You have a thing for the Prospect?" I twitched and looked around. Kyle Hobart had sat himself beside me. Since arriving in Charming, he was the Son I'd gotten to know the least. He had a wife, April, and a son but he shared a bed with a different woman pretty much every night. That wasn't unusual in the club. Tig was just the same, and the rest had their fair share married or not when they chose to, but Kyle kind of wore it like a badge of honour, bragging every notch on his bed post, though there was little variety. He practically recruited croweaters, girls like Dana, and used them. They were almost always barely legal and what Clay called 'jailbait'. I was pretty sure the fact I barely knew Kyle was no coincidence, either. I was surprised one of the others hadn't already come rushing over to 'join' us.

"Juice?" I was kind of surprised at that. Juice was sweet but I'd never thought of him that way, really.

"Saw you eyeing him up over there." I shrugged.

"Not for that reason."

"No?" He leaned over a little closer to me. "Why then? Humour me."

"Why?" If this was coming from Piney, Chibs or even Tig, it wouldn't feel weird or unusual, but I barely knew Kyle and he hardly knew me. It felt odd.

"Can't even be a little interested in what goes on in the mind of my Prez's mysterious daughter?" Kyle smirked.

"I'm not mysterious," I pointed out, then sighed. "You're the one who brought Dana in, right?"

"Yeah. She, uh, approached me in town a couple weeks ago. Said she'd never spoken to a Son before. Told her we always need an extra pair of hands behind the bar, she jumped at it. And at me." I didn't blink when he said that, because he was watching me closely so I knew he was trying to shock me. Kyle leaned ever closer to me, arm going around the back of the couch behind me. I didn't say anything. Dana Peterson was a transparent bitch. In his corner, Juice was teetering on his bar stool. I thought I was starting to figure it out. Juice didn't sleep around as much as some of the others and my guess was that he'd actually liked Dana… so to hear me say she was only here to try and get to Jax and that she'd been brought in by Hobart the cradlesnatcher… Damn. Poor Juice had no idea, yet, the kind of insane women that surrounded the club. Unfortunately, I knew all too well thanks to my mother.

"Juice shouldn't drink anymore," I said decisively. His eyes were very unfocused. I half rose to go over and try to stop him but it seemed like Chibs had taken note of the same thing. The Scotsman went over to Juice and I saw him prise the beer out of his hand. So, I'd figured this little puzzle out but I still wasn't sure how to get Dana to leave.

"When do you turn eighteen, Kitten?" Kyle asked, a hand coming to rest on my shoulder now, but it wasn't that that made me give a start.

"Don't call me that," I said immediately, firmly.

"I heard Tig-"

"Don't call me that." It wasn't a request, and he could tell. He took a minute to relax and I found I was being pressed into his side.

"When do you turn eighteen?" He asked again.

"For you, never."

"Damn, cold reception. I was just asking," Kyle laughed. "Don't have to flatter yourself-" His grip on my shoulder tightened.

"Let go. You weren't just asking," I added, determined not to be put in that position of silly little girl thinking too much of herself that so many men pull when they're rejected. The truth was, my seventeenth birthday wasn't too far away and I knew when that happened a lot of the guys not so close to Clay and Jax might start giving me the same shit as Kyle- waiting for my next birthday to hit. Gemma had pretty much already warned me of that. Kyle looked at me, obviously surprised. Slowly, he took his hand off my shoulder.

"Jeez. Look, all I'm saying is, everyone expects you to end up with someone in the club- you're a legacy kid, with your old man being First 9. I just think it'd be a damn shame if it was the Prospect." Chibs was helping Juice out back to the dorms now, obviously deeming him quite smashed enough to be going on with.

"If that's true," I stated, "It's not gonna be with you."

"...And that's enough," A voice said. I jumped in surprise and realised that Tig had come over, having finished his game of pool, and his blue eyes were cold when fixed on Kyle.

"I was just-" He began to say, but Tig took a step closer, his hand on my shoulder now.

"Beat it, Hobart." Kyle closed his mouth, evidently not about to argue, casting Tig one last edgy look as he walked away with his tail between his legs. I looked up at Tig, who was watching his brother go, and I suddenly had an inkling of what it meant to wear the Sergeant-at-Arms flash, and why Tig was the one who bore it. Kyle Hobart was obviously afraid of him, and whether that was just because he was a coward or not didn't matter. "You okay, Kitten?" Tig questioned me, relaxing once Kyle was way the other side of the room and looking down at me.

"Yeah," I stood up just because I felt absurdly small next to him while he stood- not that he wasn't tall anyway. "He just kinda..."

"I know. Sorry I didn't get over here sooner. But you did a pretty good job of handling him, huh?" He flashed me a grin. I smiled back mildly.

"Thanks." At that moment, Gemma emerged and came over to both of us. She raised her eyebrows at me slightly when she saw who I was speaking to, but I shook my head. Tig seemed to pick up on her unspoken question.

"Hobart was bothering her," He explained. Gemma's expression cleared.

"Clay is pretty fixed on keeping him far the hell away from her," She nodded, which was the first time I'd specifically heard that. Tig inclined his head in return.

"I was playing pool. Looked round and he had his arm round her, breathing down her neck, giving her shit about Juice. She told him where to go, though." There was that little grin again from Tig- almost one of pride, but maybe it was something more akin to respect.

"Jesus." Gemma commented.

"I am here you know," I reminded the two, who both looked around at me. Gemma chuckled.

"What's the bee in your bonnet, sweetheart?" She questioned, as Tig wandered away towards a couple of Tacoma guys (not including Kozik). I sighed. If anyone knew how to be rid of somebody, it was Gemma Teller-Morrow. I nodded towards Dana behind the bar.

"She's the one who tried to get me to introduce her to Jax," I explained.

"The one you put on her ass?" Gemma raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, her. Well, Kyle brought her here to work and I guess fresh croweaters have to come from somewhere, but she slept with Juice and I think he really liked her. When I explained how I knew her, he went all funny and now he's gotten totally wasted. I'm pretty sure she'll go through them thinking she'll get to Jax." Gemma looked back over at the blonde speculatively.

"Jax wouldn't go for someone like her. Not his type," Gemma remarked.

"That's not why I'm worried. She's a troublemaker, Gemma. Bad news for the guys." Gemma turned her dark gaze on me, a small smirk playing about her lips.

"What d'you wanna do about it, honey?" She asked me, a gleam in her eyes.

"Get rid of her," I replied decisively, repeating Piney's earlier words. "I just don't know how." I felt pretty powerless. But Gemma's grin got wider.

"You came to the right person to help you with that, darling." Gemma took my hand and turned me around to show me the rest of the room. "You've got to remember who you are, Eliza. You're Clay Morrow's daughter. That might not mean shit to silly little girls like Dana but it means something to the people in this club- and to the women." I looked at her doubtfully. "When a new girl shows up, there's always discomfort among the croweaters and old ladies. Use it."

* * *

"Clay's kid, right?" The man who approached me had a very low, raspy voice, as if he rarely used it. He was tall, bald, covered in tattoos and his kutte informed me that he was from the Tacoma charter and sat there as Sergeant-at-Arms, just like Tig.

"Eliza," I introduced myself.

"Happy," He returned. It was evening now and most of the children had been put to sleep in the dorms. The edgy atmosphere of lockdown had surpassed fever pitch and the odd mixture of croweaters and family members was resulting in a rather messy, confusing party. Half of them were going full pelt, dancing, laughing and copping off and the other half were sat in clusters of family and friends, watching the debauchery unfold. I was somewhere in between, but that was exactly where Gemma wanted me situated. I remembered hearing the name Happy Lowman before, actually.

"It's nice to meet you," I said politely.

"Jax pointed you out. Wanted to come and show my respect." I was kind of surprised, not to mention baffled by this, but I took the hand he offered me and shook it, my palm disappearing in his. "Gemma said you know that girl." He nodded in the direction of Dana. She'd abandoned the bar now, and was now perched on the lap of the Tacoma VP. I almost puked but I held it back.

"She's trouble," I stated, remembering Gemma's little lesson from earlier on. "Started shit with me. Feels like homewrecking." Happy nodded.

"Noted." He left me after that, going back over towards where Kozik and Bobby were stood laughing about something or other. I tried to look around and catch Gemma's eye, wondering what that was about, but I couldn't spot her. I shrugged. It was getting late now and I wanted nothing more than to sleep after such a long day but there was no chance of that before the party died down. I stifled a yawn. I'd hit the coffee a while ago, which is why I blinked when I suddenly realised the mug in my other hand was being topped up with something else. I looked at Chibs.

"Spiking a girl's drink now, are we?" I asked. He chuckled.

"Irish coffee. It's good for ye lass. It'll help ye sleep." I shook my head. I couldn't imagine sleeping in this bedlam. "Ye alright?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Sorry. Lockdown's difficult. Think we'll be out of here by the end of the weekend." I was relieved to hear that, to be honest. I did wonder curiously why the Scotsman had a tendency to approach me at parties. I didn't mind- I liked Chibs. I peeked at him, at the scars on his cheeks. I wasn't going to ask, but he saw where my gaze was going. "Present from an old Irish friend," He said sarcastically. I winced.

"I didn't mean to stare," I told him honestly.

"You can ask, lass," Chibs responded with a small smile, and I realised he wasn't pissed.

"Why did he do it?" I questioned softly.

"Arsehole was jealous. Wanted my wife, my daughter, my connections. Excommunicated me from the IRA-" I bit my lip. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to know that part, but Chibs was slightly drunk so slipped up. Or maybe he just trusted me. But hearing that the IRA were involved was scary. "-Drove me out of Belfast and made sure I weren't so handsome anymore." His accent gained strength as anger and venom filled his words, his brown eyes going distant. But then he blinked and looked at me and softened. "Sorry. After all this time it's still a bastard to think about."

"It's okay," I assured him calmly. "I didn't know you had a daughter."

"Aye. Kerrianne. She's a few years younger than ye."

"Is that why you're throwing your party time away to talk to me again?" I grinned playfully, trying to lighten the mood. I was a little taken aback when it worked and Chibs chuckled.

"Nah. It that hard to believe I actually like ye, lass?" He grinned. "We're gonna be great friends someday, love. Trust me." I smiled. It was actually pretty nice to be appreciated as someone other than just Clay's daughter by one of the guys- not including Kyle, obviously. "It's working, by the way," Chibs added in a lower voice. I frowned, wondering what he was talking about, and he gestured in the direction of the Tacoma VP. He'd just turfed Dana off his lap after Kozik muttered something in his ear. I saw her look dejected as he sauntered away from her disinterestedly. Looking around, I also realised most of the other guys were giving her a wide berth now, whereas at the start of the day they'd been all over the fresh meat. All due to one little comment to Happy Lowman.

"How did you-?" I asked Chibs. He grinned wider, showing his dimples.

"I've been Gemma'ed a couple times myself, lassie. I know her style. Ye did well though. Didn't like that girl." He left me then. I was left standing there, marvelling at the fact that I'd somehow managed to successfully extract Dana from the Sons and turn them off her in just one evening.

I stood up a little straighter. I guess I really could stand to learn a thing or two from Gemma when it came to my enemies and my place among the boys.

It was the early hours of the morning and I was genuinely shocked that I was still awake, but the party was finally dying down. My mood had improved since Chibs pointed out my success, and Gemma had proudly squeezed my hand last time I saw her. But I had this overwhelming need to follow Dana when I saw her heading out the door, probably to her car. She was drunk.

"Hey," I called, once I'd followed her outside. She turned, blinking at me blearily through the dark.

"What d'you want?" She mumbled. "Break my nose again?" Truth be told, I'd followed her out here to proudly tell her to get lost and never come back, but seeing her dishevelled appearance and the way she couldn't even stand straight, I felt bad.

"You can't drive right now, Dana." It wasn't even that long since I'd had this conversation with Michael. Was Charming just a hotbed of drink driving or something?

"What d'you care?" She slurred. I walked over closer to her. Her make-up was smeared and her eyes were red- she looked like she'd been crying. "You never wanted me here. None of the guys will even talk to me now..."

"You don't belong here, Dana," I pointed out the state she was in, "You can't handle it, you're just a high school kid, and this wasn't some ordinary SAMCRO party-"

"You're younger than me," She said flatly. She was going into her purse, trying to find her car keys. I grabbed her wrist, not hard, and stopped her.

"I'm not making a fool of myself jumping on anyone wearing a reaper." She had the grace to look kind of embarrassed now. She sniffed.

"I just want to be… to feel..." She shrugged, not able to formulate the words. But I understood all too well. She wanted to feel included, part of something bigger, no different to how I'd felt when I first arrived here in Charming. The difference was, I'd had people waiting for me, moving up to give me space and a spot in their 'something bigger'. Dana didn't. She was a pretty girl living in a small town with not much to look forward to after she graduated in a few months.

"Come on." I took her hand and began pulling her back towards the clubhouse. "You need to sleep here. I'll make sure you get home tomorrow morning." She stumbled behind me, not protesting or arguing as I took charge and decided to help take care of a girl I didn't even like- but she really didn't look so much older or so much different to me when stood out in the lot.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza's first major lesson from Gemma- and it had successful results, but she's not quite the matriarch given her little act of compassion at the end. What do you think of it all so far? Kyle Hobart and Tig coming to her rescue? ;) Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and feedback. It's always appreciated!**


	7. Shot of Love

**Chapter Seven: Shot of Love**

 _ **Don't need a shot of heroin to cure my disease  
Don't need a shot of turpentine, only bring me to my knees  
Don't need a shot of codeine to help me to repent  
Don't need a shot of whiskey, help me be president**_

 **Shot of Love – Bob Dylan ~**

"I'm flunking practically every class," Dana admitted morosely. "I didn't get any acceptances from any of the colleges I applied to. My Dad does nothing but yell at me, and my Mom works so much I hardly see her. All I got was a message telling me she was disappointed in me. I have no idea what I'm gonna do." The lockdown was over and we were back at school. Somehow I found myself spending my lunchbreak with the girl I'd broken the nose of on my first day of school here. "I used to date Steven Drake, he graduated last year and he's living up in Oakland now. He said I could move up there with him, he'd get me a job at this record place he works at. But I don't know..."

"Just move in with some guy you dated a year ago?" I shook my head. "Doesn't sound wise."

"Neither is trying to get in with the MC, apparently," She stated gloomily. I looked at her.

"Juice… he's not a lot older than us, and he's new to the whole game. He's not really the love you and leave you type." I let the rest go unsaid. She'd already told me she didn't have feelings for him, she just got drunk and slept with him because he was cute and gave her attention.

"I'm sorry," She mumbled. The weird thing was, now that I'd gotten talking to her, Dana Peterson really wasn't so bad. Most of her bitchiness was a facade, which I could now see right through.

"You'll figure it out, Dana. But staying in Charming doesn't mean you _have_ to be a croweater, you know."

"Yeah, I guess… Hey, isn't that Michael Quinn?" He'd just walked by where we were sat in the front of the school, out in the spring sunshine. He looked twice at me sat there beside Dana but said nothing, going to join his friends. Although we still sat together in Algebra, we didn't talk much anymore. It'd remained as awkward as ever since that party.

"Yeah..." I shrugged, because I didn't know what to do about it. He'd put me off the idea of dating boys my own age and living life like a normal teenager, that was for sure. Being yelled at for trying to stop him potentially killing himself was not treatment I looked forward to.

"So what happened with you two, anyway? I heard he kissed you at the homecoming thing."

"He did," I admitted, "And then when I tried to stop him drunk driving and ploughing us both into a tree he told me where to go. Asshole." Dana laughed.

"I was wasted the other night and I still had the sense to listen to you… and honestly before that I thought you were kind of a bitch." I couldn't exactly blame her for that, given the way we'd first met, though of course I didn't think she could claim to be innocent in it either. I laughed.

"He's an idiot."

"Boys are," Dana conceded. "But you know, he's cute. He was just drunk and being a fool." She looked over at him curiously, where he was now goofing around with his friends.

"I suppose you're right," I agreed. Dana nodded, looking back at me.

"You know, there's a pep rally on Friday evening. I know it's not really your thing, but it'd be cool if you came. I quit cheerleading because of my grades, so I need someone to hang out with." I had not expected that. Apparently my facial expression said as much because she smiled a little sadly. "Look, I don't have many friends. I'm supposedly popular but with all the shit going on in my head…. Well, you're the only one looking out for me, anyway." She finished somewhat awkwardly, but I got what she was trying to say. And to be honest, she had a point. My alternative Friday night plan was either staying at home with my homework for company or… well, nothing. The club were going on a run, so there was nowhere else to be.

"Sure. Sounds like it could be fun," I agreed, surprising even myself.

* * *

"A pep rally, huh?" Clay seemed to find the idea of me going to one of those hilarious. I was making dinner, since Gemma wasn't home yet as she had errands to run, and Dad was actually home early for a change so he was stood in the kitchen with coffee and an amused expression. "You helping to build up school spirit?"

"I don't know. Figured there'd be no visits from Hale at the school though," I joked in return, and he let out a hearty chuckle.

"There _is_ that. I don't wanna have to haul your drunk ass home either though," My father added a little more sternly. I shook my head.

"You won't. I'm gonna keep it clean, Dad," I promised.

"Alright. Dana's picking you up?" He checked, even though I'd already told him this.

"Yeah, she said she'd swing by here."

"Hm…. You didn't like that girl not so long ago, Ellie. Not saying you can't make friends in the strangest of ways, but I'm glad you pushed her out the clubhouse. I don't want her back in there, okay?" I looked at him, meeting his grey gaze, and nodded.

"I don't want that either, Dad." It was as much for her now though as it was for the club. I may be a year younger than her but it was pretty clear that nobody else was going to try and steer her down a half-sensible path. I wasn't sure when I started believing myself to be qualified to do that, but I had to try.

"Good. On another note," Clay added, "Your seventeenth is coming up, and so is Juice's year as a Prospect." I looked at Clay curiously as I stirred the sauce.

"Is he going to get his top rocker, do you think?" I questioned. It'd been a while since SAMCRO had got any new patches. It was a few years since Jax and Opie became members, but their Prospect period was more perfunctory than anything given that their fathers were both First 9. Over the past couple of years I'd seen many Prospects come and go unsuccessfully, either unable to hack the life or dead or pissed the wrong person off in the club. Kyle Hobart had patched in slightly before them, and on a personal level I had no idea what he brought to SAMCRO. For all that they treated Juice like he was dumb, I could tell the Sons genuinely loved him and saw his worth. His skills on the computer were extremely valuable for a modern SAMCRO, especially.

"I expect him to. Jax is his sponsor, but he's gotten close to Chibs. I think Bobby and Tig might need a little more convincing." I generally steered clear of knowing club business, but happy things like this didn't bother me so much- and Clay felt comfortable talking with me about it, so I knew it wasn't risky. "Anyway. Given that assumption, I was wondering if you'd mind sharing your birthday party with Juice?"

"Oh, I don't mind," I agreed. "It'll be kind of nice."

"Well, I figure you two seem to get along well..." Clay said this kind of weirdly, and I looked twice at him. However, my father evidently decided not to pursue the thought. "I'm proud of you, Eliza. Don't know what good karma I cashed in to get a kid like you." I was touched by this, and Dad kissed me on the forehead, but I didn't get to say anything before he left the room. I swallowed a lump in my throat, an emotion I couldn't identify, but turned back to the hob. Gemma always said there was no use in crying and I happened to agree.

* * *

 **Gemma's P.O.V.**

 _I'd never wanted a daughter. When John gave me two boys, I'd been relieved that I wouldn't have to go through the kind of shit that I gave my parents, even if that made me a hypocrite. Boys came with difficulties of their own, but mine were raised to grow into the club. Then I got together with Clay, and he already had a daughter. Eliza was probably around four or five around that time, no older, but she'd lived with Ellen, her junkie mother. Of course, back then Ellen had actually cleaned up. But I still remembered the first time Clay had Eliza to stay. She was this tiny little thing with bright orange hair that never seemed to sit still. And seeing Clay melt over her, not to mention the way Jax took on the big brother role so quickly with her- before I knew it, I fell in love with that little girl despite my misgivings._

 _Now, Eliza wasn't really a little girl anymore. She was almost seventeen, but in so many ways she was so much older. She was pretty mature. Not reserved, exactly, but self-posessed. Looks-wise, I'd overheard a few Tacoma guys during the lockdown describe her as looking like jailbait. Her hair had darkened from ginger to definite red. Since she moved to Charming and had actually had access to regular food, she'd filled out figure-wise. And she had ridiculous, pouty lips designed to give men ideas. Luckily she had Jax and Clay to scare the shit out of men because otherwise, I'd probably be staring the number one reason I didn't want a daughter right in the face- teen pregnancy._

 _It fell away when she came down the stairs ready to go to her pep rally. She smiled and looked like that cute kid again. She'd kept it simple, just in a plain sweater and jeans. I was kind of glad she didn't actually go in for that school spirit shit.  
"All ready to go, baby?" I asked her. That Dana girl was picking her up. I still wasn't sure about that new-found friendship and nor was Clay, but if it got Eliza out and having fun instead of stewing and living inside her own head, we'd decided not to make a big deal. _

" _Dana's on her way," Eliza nodded. I went over and pulled her hair out where some of it was tucked into the back of her shirt. She didn't flinch anymore, but that was new. I'd known her for as long as she could remember and she used to be so unused to friendly physical affection and contact that she'd go strangely stiff. She probably didn't even notice that she even did it, but I saw a difference._

" _That Michael kid going to be there?" I questioned. She hadn't talked much about him since that party a few months back. To be honest, she'd barely mentioned him even before that, but Eliza was so cagey about school, boys and everything else like that that I tried to get it out of her just to figure out what her deal actually was. I mean, other than her blindingly obvious crush on Tig. (Obvious to me, anyway. Jax had been talking to me not long ago about how he was glad she didn't seem to have any interest in any of his brothers)._

" _I don't know," She shrugged._

" _He doesn't play football or anything?" I added. She frowned._

" _Baseball, I think," Eliza replied, looking as if she was trying to remember some insignificant, boring detail from a conversation a long time ago. I smirked; this Michael kid had to be a bore._

" _Any other boys?" She looked at me like I was crazy._

" _What's the obsession?" She wanted to know. "There's more to life than getting a boyfriend, Gemma." And there she went again, proving to me that she'd seen too much for a girl of not quite seventeen. I'd lived for boys at her age. Then again, I'd only been a year away from meeting John and having Jax at that point._

" _I know, sweetheart. You know I just want you to have fun," I reassured her. Eliza's expression cleared. "If you need picking up later, call me, okay?" I could hear a car pulling up outside and honking, so I knew it was Dana there to pick up Eliza right on time, as promised. Eliza nodded and smiled._

" _Thanks, Gemma. Bye-" I hugged her spontaneously. I didn't do that very often, but Eliza was starting to feel like she really was my kid. She hugged me back with surprising return gusto. I smiled at her as I let her go._

" _Take care, honey."_

* * *

Gemma waved me off as I climbed into Dana's car. She was wearing a sweater with the school logo on and was chirpy from the get-go. I let her chatter mindlessly as we drove to school. As usual, Gemma had given me more to think about than I'd bargained for. I wondered why she was trying to push me to take more of an interest in boys. I knew Michael was just an unfortunate name she'd heard a few times, so she focused on him. Dana was talking in the same vein:  
"My Dad has basically told me that I'm not allowed to talk to any boys any more, ever since he caught me fooling around with Timothy Whitmore."

"He's that wannabe biker, right?" I snorted. Timothy was a senior like Dana, and he rode a Lambretta scooter, the lawnmower engine of which he revved to try and impress people- including me. I'd passed him that morning on my way to class and he'd revved it at me and I'd had to keep from laughing.

"He's an idiot, but I was bored."

"You don't _have_ to fool around with guys when you're bored. You could, I don't know, take up a hobby," I suggested, but said it in a teasing tone so she'd know I wasn't trying to be mean.

"Maybe you need to get less hobbies and spend more time fooling around with guys," Dana retorted, flashing me a grin. I rolled my eyes.

"Touché." We left the car in the parking lot and walked around the outside of the school building, where banners and signs needlessly pointed in the direction of the noise. It was getting dark out, the sun just setting over Charming, and crowds were assembling around the playing fields. I could hear the band playing in the distance, so evidently things had kicked off, and Dana grabbed my hand and started dragging me through the crowds. We got a few strange looks from people as we passed- we'd been getting them all week, since Dana and I started hanging out.

The festivities failed to be contagious for me, although everyone else seemed really into it. I sat out in the bleachers, watching my classmates more than I was listening to all the talk of how the Charming Chasers were going to kick the asses of the Modesto Mountains or whatever the hell they were called tomorrow. Dana garbled gossip in my ear whenever girls walked past- and whenever players were called out for being exceptional. She seriously had dirt on everyone. I noticed that she was pretty quiet about the cheerleaders though. The parade of identical looking girls did keep looking over at us, but nobody said a word. I had a very strong feeling it had more to do with me than it did Dana. Nobody had fucked with me since the first day of school when I broke her nose.

The team captain was giving his own version of a rousing speech when I felt someone sit down on my other side. I glanced to my right and was kind of surprised, though of course Gemma must've said his name enough times to curse me, to see it was Michael. I checked on Dana, but she was engrossed in her phone.  
"So. You two are friends now," He noted instead of greeting me, nodding at Dana. I shrugged.

"Guess so."

"Right. I didn't think she was your kind of person." I raised my eyebrows at him.

"How would you know what my kind of person is?" I asked coldly. Michael laughed but in a humourless kind of way.

"Sorry. Look… I came over here to say… I know I behaved like a monumental ass towards you at that homecoming party and I wanted to say I'm sorry." I stared at him disbelievingly. His dumb expression was full of hope.

"Why?" I questioned. "I mean… that was months ago. You've not said a word to me since." He at least had the shame to look guilty.

"Yeah… I don't know. I was nervous." I rolled my eyes, looking around at Dana, hoping to catch her attention and tug her away, but she was now talking on the phone to someone and not paying any attention to me, so I sighed and looked back at him. I thought about giving a blasé response, like I would to anyone else, but it'd taken me this long to find one person who was _sort of_ my friend to invite me to anything else since Michael's stupid party, so I decided I'd be blunt and honest, Gemma style.

"I went with you to that party because my parents were pestering me to act like a normal teenager and do normal teenage shit. You seemed nice, we talked, so I figured we were friends. Then you kissed me, which was cool, and then when I wouldn't risk my life for you because you pussied out when the cops showed up, I was left in the fucking woods to handle my own shit. Now, you might not know much about me before I showed up in Charming, but know this: I don't have time or patience for bullshit. You're either sorry or you're not, but don't play coy. It won't get you anywhere." When I finished my speech, Michael Quinn simply stared at me. I remembered something I'd heard Jax say, about it being a choice how you take things. Michael could bitch and run off, or he could stick it out. And to my surprise, after a minute, he broke out into a grin.

"I _am_ sorry, Eliza. After that, believe me." I watched him for a minute, then smiled back too, turning to focus on the speeches again.

* * *

 **A/N: So, Eliza's picked up an unlikely friend, and had a little heart to heart with Clay. We got to hear from Gemma, which by the way is something I want to do- do little snippets of other characters in Eliza's life, just for us to see how she was doing from their point of view back then. And now Michael is back in the picture too. So, where will this all lead? Charmed high school life? We'll see. Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback! Reviews are, as always, very welcome.**


	8. Baby's In Black

**Chapter Eight: Baby's In Black**

 _ **She thinks of him and so she dresses in black  
And though he'll never come back, she's dressed in black  
Oh dear, what can I do?  
**_ _ **Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue**_

 __ **Baby's In Black – The Beatles ~**

"I told you he was cute," Dana whispered excitedly. It was a little while later. Most of the speeches were over and the cheerleaders were back out and showing off while the football team ran laps around the place, but it was coming to the end and most people were thinking about going home or out. Michael's friends had come over and he was talking with them, but hovering not far away. He'd talked to me for pretty much the whole thing, though. I was a little taken aback by that.

"I don't see how not behaving like a jackass suddenly makes him cute," I stated bluntly. Dana just laughed at me.

"He likes you. Come _on_ , Eliza. You should live a little," She informed me. I was going to ask what she meant by that but Michael came back over to me.

"Hey," He cast Dana a look and she conveniently spotted somebody she knew nearby and cornered them, leaving me alone with him amongst the crowd. He swept his pretty-boy dark bangs out of his eyes. "So, a few of us were gonna head down to the reservation with a few beers. You in?" I looked over at his guffawing, dumbass friends. I guessed this was what Dana had meant by living a little.

"Erm… I told my step-mom I'd come home right after," I lied. Michael looked a little disappointed. I glanced at Dana and saw she was glaring at me pointedly. I sighed. "We should hang out, though..." His expression immediately brightened.

"Actually, I was kinda plucking up the courage to ask… there's this nice Italian place that just opened on Main Street. It'd be cool- I mean… I'd like you to come with me. Like. As my date," He added awkwardly, just in case I somehow missed what he was asking. It'd been obvious, and I'd even opened the door for it, but I still felt kind of dumbstruck. I'd never been asked out before and I had no idea what to do or say. Honestly, most of me didn't want to go with him at all. I didn't think I even liked him that way. But I thought of Gemma, and Dana, and for some reason Tig and Juice too, and I gave in.

"Sure… that'd be… nice," I fumbled for the words. Michael grinned.

"Cool! Err, how is Sunday night? I work Saturday's and Sunday's at the movie theatre in Morada, so..." I blinked at him.

"Sunday is good," I told him. Michael nodded his head, trying to act cool and kind of failing.

"I'll see you then!" He waved, heading back to his friends. I stood there, feeling kind of out of my own body, until Dana sidled up beside me.

"So, is that a date then?" She questioned, wiggling her eyebrows. I sighed again.

"I suppose it is."

* * *

"Heard you have a date," Bobby said, raising one eyebrow. It was Sunday afternoon, a few hours from when I was meant to be going out with Michael, and I was at the clubhouse waiting for Clay. The guys were waiting for church to begin, but Clay was outside with Unser dealing with something and Jax, Opie and Kyle weren't here yet. Juice and Chibs were playing pool while Tig was out back in the dorms somewhere.

"Well," I shrugged somewhat uneasily. I didn't appreciate my father telling absolutely fucking everyone my business.

"It's good, Little One. You should be out there having fun at your age," Bobby assured me kindly.

"Yeah..." I wasn't so convinced this could be classified as fun, to be honest. He seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Look, I've heard Gemma on at you, Little One, about boys and enjoying yourself and acting your age, but if it ain't you then none of us are gonna complain if you don't have horndog teenage boys crawling all over you. Trust me," Bobby chuckled deeply, "We all think of you as one of our own, in a way. But if you do wanna get out there and experience life, you gotta do it now. And don't let anyone stop you- not even Jax," He added a little sternly. I laughed at that.

"Jax couldn't stop me," I commented somewhat boldly, because Jax would sure as hell try. He'd already called me up to ask me a thousand questions about Michael Quinn, and whether I was serious about dating a drunk driver who hadn't spoken to me in months. Me pointing out it was just dinner and not marriage and two kids did not go down well.

"Good," Bobby told me as Clay walked in, along with Jax and Opie, who'd also apparently just arrived, "I love you, Little One. We all do."

"I love you too, Bobby," I responded softly and honestly, as Clay came over with the other two.

"You seen Hobart?" He asked Bobby, who shook his head.

"Think he got into it with April after last night." I'd been present for half of last night, when April Hobart, Kyle's wife, had shown up at the clubhouse because their kid was sick and she couldn't get hold of her husband, only to walk into the dorms and find him in bed with two croweaters.

"Jesus. Needs to get his damn shit together," Clay grumbled. "If it's in Charming it needs to stay in his pants." I remembered my own conversation with Kyle months back, which had been borderline inappropriate, but said nothing.

"Sis," Jax captured my attention, "About tonight-"

"Please, Jax," I basically begged. I really didn't want to hear another warning about what Jax would do to Michael if anything happened. It was getting rather old already and I'd only agreed to the date a couple of days before.

"No, it's not about-" He began, but Clay cast him an annoyed look.

"Give your sister a damned break, VP." Jax fell silent, but he looked super pissed. "Alright. Someone's gonna have to fill Hobart in later. The rest of you- church! You too, Juice, you're sitting in. Sweetie, mind going out back and fetching Tig?" Clay added to me. I tried not to look too much like a deer in the headlights when I nodded and agreed. As the men filed away inside the chapel, I took a deep breath and headed out towards the dorms.

As far as I knew, Tig either didn't have his own place or didn't bother staying there very much because he was at the clubhouse almost all the time. Honestly, it suited the club fine to have the SA there on an almost permanent basis, and I think it suited Tig too. He nearly always had a different girl back there, a rotation of endless croweaters, and he was pretty open about that fact too. I headed back to his room, a little nervous, but swallowed that and forced myself to knock on the door. After a second, he called out:

"Yeah?"

"Church," I called back, turning to head back to the main area but the door behind me opened.

"Hey, Kitten, didn't know it was you," He said. I turned and Tig was stood there in just jeans, which was he was still doing up, and nothing else. His chest was pretty toned and had a smattering of dark hair across it.

"Clay sent me," I managed to somehow say, even though my mouth was dry.

"Well, hold on a sec," He went back into his room, leaving me stood in the doorway. For once there was no woman in there, but I did see a stray pair of panties on the floor. I decided to just pretend not to notice- it was often the best method around the SAMCRO boys. "Sorry," Tig added, pulling on a shirt and starting to button it up. "Did Jax talk to you?"

"Uh, about what?" I questioned.

"Tonight. He mentioned you were going out, but there might be a little trouble from the Mayans." Was _that_ what he'd just tried to tell me? I blinked at Tig.

"Not yet and uh… I mean… what does that really have to do with me?" I asked. Tig finished buttoning up his shirt and set about looking around for something else. He did fix me for a second with those bright blue eyes of his, though.

"Look, Kitten, your Dad didn't wanna bring this up in front of Gemma and the others, but he trusts me, alright?" I frowned but nodded.

"I know."

"The pricks got photos of you at that school pep rally thing you were at. Wrote some…. Captions," Tig pulled a face of distaste, giving me a hint of what kind of captions those were, "Jax advocates locking you away and not letting you out, but Clay said he didn't think it'd be fair to scare you like that and he thinks you're made of stronger stuff… So, Kitten," Tig went over to the dresser in the corner and dug around, pulling out a knife. "He told me to give you this." I looked down at it in his hand. It wasn't so big that I couldn't hide it, but it was definitely large enough to be ominous. "We don't think they'll actually do anything. Alvarez is big on family, not that kind of guy, even if he is an ass… but baby, you gotta promise us that you're only going to that place on Main Street and nowhere else, okay?" He handed the knife over. My stomach flipped firstly when he called me 'baby' and secondly when his fingers brushed mine.

"Why didn't Clay tell me this morning?" I asked, looking uncertainly up at Tig. He looked kind of uncomfortable.

"Idea of arming his baby girl was too much," He replied, looking very much like he didn't want to answer at all, "And he's trying not to rock the boat with Jax. But listen… anything happens… you pull that out and cut the bastard, alright? And then you run." His gaze became more intense and hard on the last part, so I understood that as much as he was reluctant to deliver this message, it was a serious threat to my safety that was making sure he drove it home. I nodded, and copied a manoeuvre I'd watched Clay perfect a thousand times- I slipped the knife into my boot, so that only the handle showed, before pulling my pants leg down to hide that too. I thanked Tig and he steered me out down the hallways to the main bar area again, where he took his hand off my back to head into the chapel and leave me alone. I sat down on a couch a little numbly, crossing my leg so I could feel the knife through my pants. It was the first time I'd been acquainted with two things: first, that I had a target on my back because of my connections with the MC, and second, that Clay and Jax would lie to one another to fulfil their own idea of what was best for the club and the people around it.

* * *

"You look nice." All that was running through my mind was a question on repeat: why did I agree to this? Michael was dressed pretty smart, in dark pants and a shirt, and I was wearing a dark purple dress that finished above my knees, and knee high boots to hide the knife. Nicer than the average place in Charming would call for, but neither of us too over the top for such a small town. Now I was sat across the table from him, and feeling like I was living in a poorly scripted scene from a shit movie.

"Thanks. So do you," I replied, somewhat robotically.

"So…" Michael opened the menu and began to browse it, glancing up at me every few seconds. "I'm glad you decided to come. I mean… I said before, I wanted to get to know you better and we got on good at the party before I acted like a jackass." That was actually true. Up until that point, the party had been fun. I remembered speaking to Donna amongst the trees, too. She was pregnant now, and her and Opie's wedding was drawing closer too. I wondered how she was doing, as I hadn't seen her around as much lately.

"Well… that's what dates are meant to be, right? Get to know each other..." I'd already decided I wasn't a 'dating' sort of person by now. The idea of having to do this, more than once, with a whole parade of different people before I found the right one honestly depressed me. I'd rather just get some cats and have done with it.

"Have you dated before? I mean, you know. You ever had a boyfriend?" Michael corrected, pinkening. I guessed it was kind of sweet that he was shy to ask that question.

"No, I haven't," I replied honestly. He looked shocked.

"What- I mean, not even back in… where is it you're from?"

"Prothero," I named the shitty small city I had occupied for most of my life with distaste. "And nope." Now he just looked disbelieving.

"But you must've dated around a bit, right?" I couldn't help but smirk a little at his reaction. It was hilarious.

"No, actually. I was kind of… busy all the time. I didn't really have the time for it," This wasn't a lie, but it was an extremely diluted version of the truth. Michael did seem to have some kind of sense for that because he blinked over the table at me.

"But you're hot," He blurted out. And then the last of his false, but constantly present, bravado drained away and left a tomato-red teenage boy in it's wake. "I- shit, Eliza, that came out-" I was laughing now.

"Jesus, it's fine, Michael. It's a compliment," I chortled. After a few spluttering moments, he finally cracked and started to laugh too. And from that, thankfully, the ice broke at last. By the time we'd properly recovered from our fit of the giggles, our orders had been taken and the waiter had brought us our sodas.

"On a serious note," Michael said, once we'd calmed down, "I can't believe you haven't dated or whatever. I mean, it's almost summer and we'll be seniors soon. Not that it's a bad thing," He hastened to add, "You're just…. Cool, you know. The type of girl that guys like." I thought of all the men I knew in the MC and found this funny- because it was probably true, just not in the way that Michael thought.

"Like I said, I never really had time." Even this still felt weird to me. I decided to change the subject off of myself: "What about you? You had a girlfriend before?" As if Dana hadn't already filled me in on the details.

"Jessica Davis. She's in your Gym class," He added. Of course she was- she was a pretty brunette with dimples. She'd always been nice to me, too. "We went out for a while." Most of sophomore year and the beginning of last summer, 'til he'd dumped her. Dana had no real idea why but insisted it was the same reason she used for every time a guy dumped a girl- because she wouldn't put out. I wouldn't be surprised if she was right about Michael, though, to be honest. Our food arrived and we ate, chattering a little more. Most of it was inane, but I felt relatively comfortable around Michael as long as he didn't ask personal questions. I knew I was being ridiculous. I had to let people in if I actually wanted them to stick around, but there was just so much about my life I couldn't or wouldn't say; couldn't exactly drop into conversation that there was a knife in my boot.

Somehow, we muddled through and Michael didn't seem to notice my lack of things to say. Overall, we had quite a nice time. He insisted on paying the bill, which kind of made me roll my eyes, but I let him do it. Once we left, we walked out of the restaurant together. The night was pretty cold, the chill prickling my skin. I tried to hide it but he noticed and reached out.

"Hey," He said, putting his arm around me for warmth. Close to, I could smell his aftershave.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"So… who dropped you here?" Michael asked as we stood side-by-side, looking out aross the parking cars.

"My step-mother," I replied.

"I can drop you home," He offered. I raised my eyebrows at him- I was supposed to let Gemma know when I was done, so I'd have to send her a message. He held up his free hand mock-defensively. "I'm not drunk this time," He pointed out. I laughed at him, shaking my head.

"Not what I'm worried about," I stated, but shrugged as I reached into my purse for my phone. "Okay, your funeral." He gave a small fist pump of celebration as I typed a text message to Gemma explaining that Michael was dropping me home. As I waited for a reply to reassure me she was fine with that, Michael lived up to his previous behaviour of needing to fill every silence with chatter:

"...and my younger sister starts high school next year, she's a little shit and gets away with everything, it fucking sucks having siblings..." He was saying. Gemma sent a reply, saying she was fine with this plan. As I was putting my cell phone away, something caught my eye. A motorcycle. But not one of the Harley's I was familiar with seeing in the TM lot everyday; this one was practically all chrome, wasn't club colours and had ape-hangers. A man was sat on it, though the engine was off, his hands resting on the handlebars but not moving. I couldn't see his face, or his kutte, but I didn't like the feeling I suddenly had in the pit of my stomach. In the meantime, Michael was still talking: "…Lucky I'll be off to college after next year and won't have to put up with that shit anymore. Parents suck ass-"

"Michael," I forced my voice to sound calm. I didn't want to draw attention to the situation, "My step-mother said it's fine to drop me home."

"Oh, sure," He put his arm back around me and started leading me towards his car. "...So where are you planning to go to college?"

"Hm?" I was trying not to look over my shoulder as we walked. I could see the bike out of my periphery. "I dunno. Haven't thought about college." I tried to speed up walking slightly but Michael was determined to set the pace.

"Well, you're not gonna stay in Charming, right?" We were beside his car now and he'd stopped to turn to me.

"I don't know," I told him through gritted teeth- a new habit I'd picked up off of Clay. "I just don't know if college is on the cards." I wished there was a way of demanding that we get the hell in the car right now without seeming totally rude.

"You could go to art school," Michael pointed out. "I wanna do law. Dad wants me to go to Princeton but I don't know if I can pull my grades up for Ivy League."

"Baseball scholarship?" I suggested, glancing over my shoulder. The guy on the bike still hadn't budged.

"Eh, maybe," Michael shrugged, "Or maybe I just don't want my Dad choosing my destiny." I could tell he was trying to sound deep and somewhat rebellious but I had very little headspace to care.

"Um, I'm cold, can we get in the car?" I asked. Michael blinked.

"Sure. Sorry," He unlocked and I jumped in the front passenger side as quickly as possible, closing and locking the door before he'd even gotten halfway round to his side. When he did climb into the car, he looked at me with raised eyebrows. "You seem…. Are you okay?" He questioned.

"Yeah, just… let's get out of here." I said it in a way which communicated as much as possible that I wasn't going to explain anything. He didn't pester me, he just started the engine and pulled out. I kept my gaze fixed on the rearview mirror all the way down the next few streets, but to my relief and to some degree, surprise, the bike didn't follow. The streets of Charming were quiet at this time on a Sunday evening so it would've been hard to hide.

A few minutes later, when I'd finally gotten my beats per minute somewhat under control again, largely involving feeling the handle of the knife through my boot, Michael pulled his car up just outside the house. He made a point of shutting off the engine so that it was dark before turning to me.

"So… I had a really nice time," He told me, leaning slightly over in his seat to peer at me. Personally, I was peering at Clay's bike, which was parked in the driveway right beside Michael's window.

"Yeah… it was nice," I agreed, kind of wishing I could think of a better word than 'nice'.

"So… can we go out again? I mean..." I had a sudden vision of the long road ahead of me, spent going on endless, slightly awkward dates. But, I reasoned, for the most part things were pretty comfortable with Michael. Or, a snide voice pointed out in the back of my head, maybe you're just too nice to admit you're not interested.

"Sure… I'll see you tomorrow. Algebra?" I added, when he looked confused. Realisation crossed his face and he chuckled at himself.

"Yeah," He was staring at me. I knew that look from that stupid party, months ago. I thought about brushing it off and just going inside, but last time I'd been drunk and this time I was sober, so I used a quick turn of my head to check that neither Clay or Gemma were looking out the windows before I allowed Michael Quinn to kiss me again.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza agreed to go out with Michael, but she's not exactly over-enthusiastic about it. Will giving it a chance to blossom pay off for her? And with the Mayan threat and Tig of all people giving her advice and weapons to defend herself with, will we see her getting to know the Sergeant-at-Arms better? Or is Clay being as overprotective as Jax in his own way?**


	9. All Things Must Pass

**Chapter Nine: All Things Must Pass**

 _ **Now the darkness only stays the night-time  
In the morning it will fade away  
Daylight is good at arriving at the right time  
It's not always going to be this grey  
**_ **~ All Things Must Pass – George Harrison ~**

"Wow," Michael said as he released me. I kind of just blinked at him. Well, I wasn't expecting fireworks really.

"Uh… I should probably get inside," I told him, somewhat awkwardly. My mind had already snapped back to the Mayan.

"Yeah… uh… See you tomorrow?" He asked, even though we'd already established this. I nodded.

"Yeah, see you." I got out the car and waited for him to drive off before entering the house. Clay and Gemma were both in the living room, the TV on. The latter was the first to turn her head and look at me. A smirk was playing about her lips but thankfully she knew better than to ask any questions in front of my Dad.

"Home for the night now?" She questioned. I nodded in response.

"Yeah… Dad," I swallowed, my throat dry. I knew I had to tell him. Clay looked over at me.

"What's wrong, Ellie?" He took in my entire demeanour.

"In the parking lot, at the restaurant. I think I saw one of the Mayans… didn't see their kutte, but they were riding some ape-hanger shiny Harley deal. They didn't follow, I didn't tell Michael anything, just got out of there but..." Clay was already jumping to his feet. He strolled over to me, his hands closing on my shoulders gently. He peered into my face. If I'd been nervous before, his reaction honestly scared me.

"Are you okay?" He asked me firmly, urgently. "And you're sure they didn't follow you or your… _friend_? You have what Tig gave you?" I nodded my head.

"I'm sure, Dad. Or I would've called." His grey eyes didn't leave my face until he seemed to decide he believed that I'd have called. He let go of me and glanced at Gemma.

"You stay here. I'll probably be late back..." He was out the door before he even finished his sentence, leaving me stood there in the middle of the room with Gemma sat on the couch, looking how I felt- like she wondered just what the hell that'd been about. I guess what Tig had told me hadn't reached her ears yet. I guessed that Clay hadn't wanted to panic her. As Clay's bike roared off down the street and out of earshot, I walked over and sat down beside Gemma.

"You sure you're okay, baby?" She enquired, looking at me sharply.

"Yeah… kinda spooked me," I replied. Gemma frowned slightly.

"What was it about… something Tig gave you?" I realised that the look on her face was concern, a deeper kind of concern than I'd seen on her face before. I wondered why, even as I reached into my boot and drew out the knife. I lay it on the arm of the couch and I saw her dark eyes settle on it. After a few moments, her expression cleared.

"Good. You do need to defend yourself." I wondered how on earth the fact her sixteen year old step-daughter was armed with a knife could relax Gemma, while a comment about Tig made her more tense. Clay had known about it, so obviously it was nothing unwarranted. I didn't say anything. "How was your date?" She asked after a few moments, "Other than the Mayan?" I shrugged.

"Good, I guess." Gemma raised an eyebrow.

"Not the most excited response I've ever heard," She chuckled. I shrugged. "He kiss you?"

"Yeah," I admitted. I knew Gemma would be the last one to tell me not to kiss a boy, as long as it was what I wanted to do. She'd probably be more relieved, if anything, that I had such normal impulses. Predictably, she just nodded her head and smirked.

"At least he's good for something," She commented. I sat with Gemma and watched TV for an hour or so, trying to take my mind off everything that'd happened, especially the way Clay had gone flying out the door with very little explanation. I hoped he wasn't in danger, but honestly I knew more than enough by now not to realise that part of being a Son was being in some sort of danger most of the time. Still, I was edgy and I think Gemma was, a little, too. Eventually, she shut off the TV.

"We should get to bed. You have school tomorrow..." I got to my feet.

"Gemma…. Is Dad gonna be okay?" I questioned quietly as she stood up too, and for a second we were facing each other. She was just a little taller than me.

"Of course he is, sweetheart," Gemma told me, putting her hand on my arm. "God. Mayan shit always gives me the serious heebies. But they've dealt with worse than this. We're just glad you got home safe, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Sorry for..." I shrugged. Panic wasn't the word. But Gemma seemed to understand what I was getting at.

"Honey, it's okay to be worried. But sometimes, it's better to lock that shit tight. Got it?" She added somewhat sternly. But I knew what she was trying to say- one of many lessons in Gemma Teller-Morrow's book on how to be a woman around SAMCRO: keep a brave face on, no matter what happens.

"I know," I agreed simply, before heading up to bed.

* * *

I watched the hours tick by without getting any sleep. My ears sought out the sound of a bike engine coming down the street, announcing the return home of Clay. I didn't know why this time was worrying me more than any other time that my father wasn't home. Around three-thirty in the morning, I did hear an engine at last and the front door opened. I breathed a sigh of relief. Dad was okay, which meant I could rest easy. I heard him go to bed, heard him and Gemma murmur to one another before falling silent, evidently asleep. I expected to follow them into the land of nod, but somehow by then my brain was having none of it. On top of that, my legs started getting restless and twitching annoyingly.

It reminded me heavily of home- well, I reminded myself, this was my home now. But it reminded me of my old life. I'd lie awake most nights, waiting for the place to go entirely silent before I felt safe sleeping- or at least, so exhausted that I just couldn't stay awake any longer. I'd never had that problem in Charming, until now. My mind was swirling with thoughts. The knife. The restaurant. The Mayan. The kiss.

Around an hour after Clay got home, I gave up and decided that maybe warm cocoa would help. I sighed and heaved myself out of bed, padding silently down the stairs. I headed into the kitchen as quietly as I could, setting about preparing the cocoa, when a noise behind me had me turning and my mouth opening to scream.

* * *

 _ **Tig's P.O.V.**_

 _I clapped my hand over Kitten's mouth to stop her screaming. She obviously hadn't even glanced into the living room, so had no idea I was there.  
"Ssh, it's just me," I told her. She nodded her head, eyes widening at me to show she was aware of that now, and I let go, flexing sore fingers. _

" _Sorry," She whispered, her cheeks reddening. I could see the blush even through the shadows._

" _S'okay," I replied. "Can't sleep?"_

 _To be honest, I had no idea how Clay managed to produce Eliza. She was a pretty teenager- in a couple years, she'd be a dead knock out. Hell, she was already halfway there, especially in just shorts and a long t-shirt she obviously slept in. I dragged my eyes away from her legs. She was turning seventeen in just a matter of a couple of weeks. Underage,_ and _my best friend's kid. I spent enough of my damn time watching out to make sure Hobart stayed the hell away from the girl. Trust me, I wasn't going anywhere near that myself. She was just a kid. I liked 'em young but I wasn't a pervert, not really. Why I called her Kitten? Big, hungry, innocent almond-shaped eyes, a small stature and the fact she was Clay's baby girl had combined and the nickname slipped out once, then stuck. Now she'd filled out a bit and actually looked healthy, the feline resemblance was less apparent, but still._

" _No… was gonna make cocoa," She told me. Eliza was pretty spunky among the other guys but shy around me. I guessed I intimidated her more. Whatever it was- I clearly made her nervous._

" _Right. I'm uh, I'm keeping an eye open while your Dad sleeps." Watch the house, guard the family until the morning. That was Clay's instructions. The Mayans were getting cocky again, in a way they hadn't since JT died. Threatening our girls, then showing up on Eliza's little high school date… I mean Christ, I'd never seen Clay so angry. Hence the slightly rash visit to the Mayan clubhouse, and the fight. Alvarez hadn't been there, but three of his loser flunkies were. Clay, Jax, Opie and I tried to get back out without a fight but it hadn't worked, and I'd near busted my fingers beating the shit out of the Mexican prick. Struggled on the ride home as my knuckles swelled. I flexed my fingers again and her eyes went to them._

" _You need ice," She said softly._

" _Huh?" She went over to the fridge, which had one of those dispensers on the front. She grabbed a dish cloth and caught a bunch of ice in it, wrapping it up and handing it to me. I raised my eyebrows. This girl was definitely resourceful._

" _You fit right in round here, don't ya?" I chuckled quietly, pressing the ice to the knuckles of my right fist, which were worse. I watched her as she made her cocoa, not replying to me._

" _Want some?" She asked a little awkwardly._

" _Sounds amazing, doll," I agreed. My eyes were itching, but I had to get through a couple more hours before Clay would be up or when Chibs or Juice or whoever it was came here to relieve me so I could go get some sleep. She smiled a little and handed me a steaming mug. I took a seat at the table and surprisingly, so did she. "Don't you have school?"_

" _Yeah," She shrugged, "I'll just go tired." I nodded, slipping all my rings off to relax my hands. She watched my movements. "You're cut up, too." I hadn't even noticed that but she was right- my hands were a little bloody. She stood up and drifted out of the room. A minute or so later she came back with antiseptic. "Wash your hands with that," She told me. I raised my eyebrows, not really accustomed to being given instructions by a nearly-seventeen year old girl, but she was right in what she said so I just shrugged and did as I was told. When I sat back down she was sipping from her cocoa like this was normal. I looked at her curiously._

" _You seem like you know what you're doing," I tried again to engage her and figure out her chill. She looked over at me, not quite meeting my eyes._

" _Common sense," She shrugged. "And sometimes I help Clay or Jax..." I nodded. Made sense. The way Jax especially spoke about Eliza, she was gonna grow up to be Queen like Gemma one day. He trusted her in so many ways like she was a grown woman. Except for when it came to men, boys, or whatever the hell you wanted to call the matter. I didn't blame him. Dawn and Fawn were a couple years younger than Eliza, entering their teenage years in their own right, and what I was starting to see was scaring the shit out of me. And of course Colleen didn't let me get close enough to try and actually steer those girls in a better direction- and they needed it, especially Dawn, but their mother was a crazy bitch and so end of discussion. Maybe they were the reason I felt myself strangely kind of drawn to Eliza? She was looking down inside her mug again rather than at me. I was making her nervous again so I looked away._

* * *

When I finally woke up again, having gone back to bed at five in the morning after small talk with Tig, I panicked when I saw it was almost noon. I was halfway dressed and in a daze when I spotted the note on my bedside table, which I hadn't noticed before. I picked it up and read: ' _ **Eliza – Tig told me you didn't get much sleep last night. Don't worry about school for today, rest up. Sorry for giving you a scare – Dad'.**_ I huffed out a sigh of relief. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I spotted that I had a couple of messages. One from Dana, asking how my date went and where my ass was. And one from Michael, asking… well, pretty much the same thing. I sighed and tapped out replies, telling them I wasn't feeling good. Added to Dana that my date was okay, a simple response I knew she wouldn't be satisfied with. I showered and pulled on more comfortable clothes for lounging around before heading downstairs.

Gemma and Clay were both out, but I saw that Tig's presence had been replaced with Chibs'. He was sat on the couch, reading a newspaper, when I came into the room and he looked around.  
"Afternoon, lassie," He greeted me, "How're ye doing?"

"Good," I yawned, still not fully awake. "Any idea when Clay and Gemma will be back?"

"Gemma's just at TM, so whenever she's done there. Clay… not sure. He and Jax are dealing with some shit," The Scotsman explained. "Yer stuck with me I'm afraid." I gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry. Babysitting gig," I sighed, "Coffee?" Chibs nodded and chucked the newspaper aside, removing his glasses and folding them away into his kutte pocket. He stood up and followed me into the kitchen, much like I guessed Tig had the night before.

"Looking forward to yer birthday?" The Scotsman asked, making polite conversation. I shrugged. "Hey, lass." I looked around at him. "Gemma said you were shaken up last night by that Mayan." I sighed, feeling stupid about it all now. I guessed it was my first near-encounter with an enemy of the Sons. I couldn't afford to be so… naive and romantic about the life. Not if I was now living it too.

"A little," I replied to Chibs, deciding to apply one of Gemma's lessons and not show how much it bothered me.

"Listen. Ye've got to understand that all of us are here to do everything in our power to make sure that nothing _ever_ happens to you." He said this very firmly, looking at me with intense dark eyes. I nodded. I already knew that- it was a lesson that Clay had impressed on me since I was a child, in fact.

"It's not me I'm worried about," I told him honestly. Last night, my heart had hammered for my father, and then seeing the way Tig came back- knuckles bruised and cut from a fight- I mean, he was otherwise unscathed, so that was something, but my life in Charming so far had almost been a fairytale, free of the violence and blood and fear that could accompany being around the club. I was getting tired of epiphanies and realisations about my new life.

"Lass. It's not your job to worry, okay? I know there's no point saying that, 'cause it won't stop ye. But we've always _all_ got each other's backs. It's ye, and Gemma, and all the other old ladies, family and friends, that bring us home again." I nodded solemnly. I understood that, too. "Alright, now we have that cleared up- please tell me ye understand how ter work that damn new cable box? I think if I have to read another line out of the Charming Times I might die of boredom." I laughed. SAMCRO kept Charming quiet, so most of the news in that rag didn't really pass as actual news.

"Yeah, I know how to work it. Clay said he got it for me, but him and Gemma spend more time in front of it than I do." When I came home from school and I didn't have homework I tended to end up sketching or painting rather than glueing myself to the screen. I poured Chibs' coffee and stirred sugar into my own. He lifted his own mug.

"Thank fuck for that, lass."

* * *

I wiled away the rest of the afternoon with Chibs, watching shit TV and answering Dana's messages until evening fell. Gemma was home before dark, and Chibs' guard duty was relieved when Kyle arrived to take over. I was still a tad uncomfortable around the man, but I just handled it by not having a whole lot to do with him. He hadn't said a word out of place to me since Tig warned him away, thankfully. I was helping Gemma set the dining table for dinner when there came a knock at the door. I saw Kyle stand up, pull out his gun, before heading over to peer through. Whoever it was had him putting the gun away again but he opened it.

"Yeah?" He snapped coldly. I froze when I heard the voice:

"Hey, erm… is Eliza there?" It was Michael. My eyebrows shot up as Gemma looked around at me, a smirk playing about her lips.

"Who's asking?" Kyle asked.

"It's okay," I squeaked, hurrying over to the door, looking at Kyle. He raised his eyebrows at me but then just shrugged and walked back into the house, adjusting his kutte as he turned obviously to emphasise it to Michael, who looked like a deer trapped in the headlights. I was mortified. "Hey, erm," I pushed him a few steps outside before pulling the door to behind me. "What're you doing here?"

"Came to give you these and tell you to get well," I suddenly realised he was holding flowers. I accepted them, kind of in shock, still looking at Michael like he was crazy.

"Um. Thanks. I'm… feeling much better. I'll be back at school tomorrow," I added awkwardly.

"Yeah? Good. 'Cause I kinda thought maybe… you were avoiding me or something." Michael scratched his head, looking as uncomfortable as I felt.

"What?" I said. "No! No. I just..." There was no way I could even begin to explain the previous night after I'd left him. "Look. This is really nice of you…"

"And brave, right? Knocking your door," He added, his tell-tale smirk in place. I laughed.

"Yeah, brave." I felt really bad for him that Kyle had been the one to open the door, but it was probably _much_ better that it was Kyle than Clay or Jax.

"Well… I'm glad we're okay. I'll see you tomorrow." He stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek. My hands were full of the flowers he'd given me so I just nodded.

"See you tomorrow." He walked away to his car, which was parked on the curb, and tore off into the night. I stood there, looking at the mixed bunch of carnations and chrysanthemums in my hands, feeling like the world's biggest idiot all over again. Somehow, accidentally, it seemed like I'd gotten myself some sort of boyfriend.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza got a sight of how real the danger can be. We got to hear from Tig and his perspective on young Eliza, years before any kind of relationship... what did you think of that? :D and of course, handy advice from Chibs. What do you guys think of Michael? Eliza's reaction is pretty lukewarm to him, right? Lol. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and followed!**


	10. Simple Man

**Chapter Ten: Simple Man**

" _ **Oh take your time, don't live too fast  
Troubles will come and they will pass  
You'll find a woman and you'll find love  
And don't forget son, there is someone up above"  
~ **_**Simple Man – Lynyrd Skynyrd ~**

"What're you doing for your birthday?" Michael questioned. We were sat in the sun on the lawn out back of the school during lunch break. He was playing with my hair and I was… tolerating it. Well, honestly, it was kind of nice, but this question was one I'd known was coming the second Dana slipped up about it being my birthday this weekend in front of him.

"Nothing," I lied. I couldn't exactly invite him to the clubhouse. For one, it wasn't just about my birthday on Friday night- it was about Juice patching in. For another, aside from the fact Jax was far from ecstatic I was dating and Clay being a little on the fence about Michael, average high school boys like Michael Quinn did not exactly gel well with bikers.

"We should do something. Hang out, go somewhere nice," He said. I felt instantly bad.

"I can't," I sighed, "I said I'd spend it with Gemma. Girls night, you know..." I mumbled. Gemma was about the last person on the planet who believed in 'girl time' but I didn't want to tell him I had a party to attend that he was not invited to. It made me feel like a bitch. Michael frowned, obviously disappointed.

"Oh. We can do something on Saturday, right?" Michael added, ever the optimist.

"Sure." He kissed me. It was still weird to me that he'd just… do that. I supposed I had to get used to it.

Michael and I had obviously only been 'together' for a little over a week, but I was quickly realising just how hard it actually was going to be to keep the two halves of my life separate- but also how vital that was. Still, we were the talk of the school. A lot of girls had been approaching me telling me how lucky I was, and how he was practically the hottest and most popular boy, but I didn't understand why that mattered or why anyone else cared so much. I certainly didn't pay any mind to the jealous skanks who muttered things like 'biker whore' when I passed them in hallways. It actually amused me to think of them saying something like that in front of one of the actual bikers.

I was pondering this conversation later on after school. I was at TM, waiting for Gemma to get done and just hanging out on the picnic benches in the sun when a car pulled up. I was a little surprised to see it was Donna climbing out of it. She was looking rather pregnant by now, glowing in the cheeks, her blue eyes sparkling, but I rarely saw her around TM or the clubhouse. I waved at her and she ambled over to me.

"Hey, have you seen Ope?" She asked me, "He told me to meet him here."

"No, the guys aren't back yet," I answered honestly. According to Gemma, who was sorting things in the office right then, the guys had all had club shit to attend to that afternoon. Donna sighed tiredly and sat beside me.

"Jesus. Don't ever get pregnant, it's exhausting," She advised me, and I laughed, looking curiously at her baby bump.

"You seem happy," I noted. I really liked Donna. At school, Dana was my main and only girl friend, and we had fun together, but on the occasions I got to talk to Donna I always felt like she was more on my level. Maybe because she was older, knew the world I lived in even if she didn't associate with it more than she had to being engaged to Opie.

"Oh, I am," She replied easily. "I'm getting married in a month, my little girl will be with us in three, and I'll have a little family of my own." Donna was obviously one of those girls where that had been all she ever wanted. I did relate, even if I wasn't sure- not to mention, too young to know- about kids. I nodded, smiling. She looked at me with perceptive blue eyes. "Are you happy, Eliza? I mean, you seem to have settled right in here, but..." She gestured and I understood what she meant. I shrugged.

"I am. I mean, I like Charming. I like the guys. I have a family and friends and all of that stuff."

"A boyfriend too," Donna added with a smirk, "Is he the same cute guy I saw you at that party with?"

"Yeah..." I trailed off.

"If you're not that into him you don't have to date him, you know," She said suddenly, and bluntly. "It might seem harsh now but it won't be the end of the world." It was like she was reading my mind. I looked at her, a little shocked. She laughed. "I'm not stupid enough to think everybody is lucky enough to meet their soulmate at school. It happened for me and Opie, but that's an anomaly. It's a small town. If you're not happy, don't just sit and wait for it to get worse." It was almost the exact same thing that Bobby had said to me, too. That it was okay if I didn't want to date or any of this stuff….Was I that transparent?

"I am happy," I insisted, "I just..." I wasn't sure I was ready, that was the truth. But it was what everybody else my age was doing. Donna nodded, and I knew she understood.

"Live your life for you. Not him and not anyone else. Okay?" She stood up with a little difficulty and patted me on the arm. "There's Ope. I probably won't see you before then so…. Happy birthday for Friday," She told me. I nodded, smiling at her.

"Thank you."

* * *

 **Clay's P.O.V.**

" _WELCOME TO THE CLUB YOUNG BROTHER!" Came the uproarious yell as the chapel doors burst open. We all spilled out, Juice in the lead with his top rocker in hand, grin bright enough to blind. Outside, friends and family awaited. At the forefront were Gemma and Eliza, my girls. I went over and kissed Gemma on the cheek before hugging Eliza._

" _Happy birthday, baby," I wished her. I was proud as hell of my little girl. Seeing her finally looking healthy, and happy, and being under the same roof as me after all these years._

 _I was far from a model father but my relative absence over her young life was more due to circumstance than it was because I didn't want to be there. In the very early days, when she was tiny, Ellen had been clean and sorting her shit out. I'd even helped them get set up in Prothero, away from the utter madness of Charming. It was around the time Eliza was around five that I became President. JT had been ghosting behind the eyes for a while before he ghosted for real. I was trying to keep us afloat in guns. And all the while, there had been Mayan war. A bad time for me to have a baby girl around. And then Ellen had fallen off the wagon, but by the time I figured out what was going on, I was with Gemma and Jax was still at home and it was less than ideal. And it seemed_ every _time I'd thought about finally getting shit together, pulling Eliza out of her shitty home-life once and for all, shit was less than ideal. Until eventually, Ellen finally croaked and ideals be damned, Eliza was coming to live with us. Her real family. I didn't really live for regrets, didn't have time for them- but the fact it'd taken so long would be one I'd always carry with me._

 _She hugged me when I wished her a happy birthday._

" _Thanks Pop," She said cheerfully, kissing me on the cheek. She flew by me to hug Juice. "Congratulations!" She said, and I saw him hug her back. At seventeen years old, nothing her old man had to say was all that interesting. I got that. But I tapped her on the shoulder._

" _Don't you want your present?" I saw genuine surprise cross her face and more regret flashed through me. I glanced at Gemma, who smiled. "C'mon," I put my arm around my daughter, steering her outside the clubhouse. It was sunset, but we'd planned this little routine all day. Gemma walked ahead of us, and Jax came up on her other side, his arm going around her too. He grinned at her._

" _Happy birthday, sis," He added, kissing her on the cheek as we all exited. I saw Gemma glance back and sighed. Wendy and Jax were, as usual, having problems. Out of nowhere, Gemma had gotten this idea that maybe Jax and Eliza would continue the legacy one day. She said she'd rather that than Tara. And maybe they would've worked out, once Ellie grew up a little and Jax and Wendy inevitably ended… but to me, it was so obvious that the two didn't regard each other that way. For which I could only say, thank god, because I'd have to hang Jackson up by his ball sack if he ever looked twice at Eliza in that way. Kyle Hobart had had that threat more than once._

" _What's my present?" Eliza asked a little blankly when we came to a stop outside. The lot was filling up- people arriving for the party. A few brothers from other charters were around- even a couple had come over from New Jersey and Illinois, riding right across the country on a sort of pilgrimage to the mother charter, so they were all there too by synchronicity, more bikes in the lot than normal._

" _There's your present, honey." She blinked blankly at the car I'd had Jax park up closer to the clubhouse so she would see it. It was a decent Honda Civic, a joint gift from me, Gemma and Jax. Eliza could already drive, she'd had a few lessons back when she lived with her mother which I'd made sure gotten paid for, and taken the rest of her hours here, passed her test and everything. She definitely needed her own transport._

" _Dad..." Eliza turned to me, and I saw tears filling up the brown eyes which were the only feature she'd inherited from her mother. She looked even less like me._

 _"You're welcome, sweetheart." I told her, hugging her tight. It was the most anyone had ever given her. When she let go of me, I saw she'd controlled her tears. She didn't cry much, if ever, and hadn't even when she was a kid. It was a trait I knew Gemma encouraged and was probably for the best in this life. She hugged Gemma next, and then Jax._

" _Don't mention it, kid," Jax said, letting her go with a grin. "Come on. I owe you and Juice drinks for today." He steered her back towards the clubhouse. After Hale had picked tipsy Eliza up that one time, he'd made a comment to me about condoning my daughter drinking underage. It might seem like shitty parenting, but Eliza had learned her lesson at that stupid party and since then had only drank around the clubhouse, which was fine with me because there were a hundred eyes on her here and she was safe. She'd seen a lot worse in her young life than a few drunk bikers- her mother's cold, dead, drug-filled body for one._

 _Gemma walked up beside me and put her arm through mine. "You having a little moment with yourself, Pop?" She teased. I looked around at her._

" _Just thinking. She should've had all her birthdays here." Gemma kissed me on the cheek._

" _She's here now, she's happy and she's healthy. That's all we want for our kids." I nodded. She was right._

" _Yeah…. let's get in there, let loose. Show the kids how it's done," I put my arm around her and began to steer her in. My wife chuckled._

" _Have a feeling_ they'll _be showing_ us _before long."_

* * *

"...A car from Dad, Gemma and Jax. A couple of smaller presents from Dad and Gemma, clothes and shit. Jax and Wendy also got me SATNAV. Vouchers from Opie and Donna. Money from Piney and Kyle… Bobby found a really old photo of me, him and Otto when I was a baby and framed it," I was listing for Juice, who'd asked what I'd gotten for my birthday. Both of us were getting pretty hammered at this point and the young biker's arm was around my shoulders as we chatted by the bar, while I also sewed his top rocker onto his kutte. "…Luann got me lingerie, which I don't really understand..."

"No Chibs or Tig?" Juice chuckled. "Damn. Least it's not just me who gets slighted..." I nudged him. They'd been ribbing him since he got patched in, telling him they'd come close to voting nay. Juice took it a little too personally.

"They're just kidding around. No, Chibs gave me a sketchbook and pencils. Think Gemma told him what to get," I laughed. "Tig… nothing."

"Lies," His booming voice made both of us jump and I looked around to see Tig had come up on my other side. "Just haven't given it to you yet. Happy birthday, Kitten." He handed me a small box wrapped in gold paper as he kissed me on the cheek. I fought the urge to blush.

"You never get me shit, man," Juice complained loudly.

"You don't _deserve_ shit. Put a few years in at the club then we'll see… but I doubt it," Tig added somewhat menacingly. I chuckled, unwrapping the present. Inside the box was a small, yellow porcelain nightlight with cat-face shaped cut outs, not much bigger than my hand. I looked at Tig with a little confusion. "For next time you can't sleep, Kitten," Came his explanation, emphasising his pet name for me so I'd understand the cats. "I know it's dumb, but I don't know what to get a seventeen year old girl," He shrugged a little awkwardly.

"I love it," I assured him with a grin. I liked that he'd put a little thought into the present. I took the brave step of kissing _his_ cheek this time. Tig grinned and winked one of his bright blue eyes at me.

"So now the only one who didn't get her a present is you," Tig pointed out to Juice, who frowned.

"Shit. I could get you a drink?" He asked me, looking guilty. I laughed.

"It's good enough for me, Juicy," I picked up the needle, nearly done sewing that patch onto his kutte. He took his arm from around me and headed further down the bar to where the croweater that was serving was. Tig raised an eyebrow at me.

"You his old lady now, doll? 'Cause no offence, but if he's making his old lady sew his shit on at her own birthday party..." He jested.

"I don't mind. It might be my birthday but it doesn't make me wanna watch Bobby drown between Suzette's thighs any more than any other day." Suzette was one of the nice croweaters but that didn't mean I liked being a spectator. Tig laughed at me.

"Don't blame you. Speaking of thighs, though- Lindsay has a nice pair. Enjoy your night, Kitten," He headed off in the direction of the aforementioned woman. It was a couple of minutes before Juice returned with our drinks, by which time I'd finished sewing the top rocker on. He set the beer down in front of me and took his kutte happily, heaving the leather back onto his shoulders. I realised he was accompanied by someone I'd never met.

"Thanks, Eliza," Juice grinned. "This is Fleet. Member of the Chicago charter." Fleet was young- he didn't look a whole lot older than me, which said something. But he sort of looked the part, with dark wavy hair cut edgily, very dark eyes and thick eyelashes, just the smallest suggestion of stubble around his jawline.

"You're patched in young," I commented as I took the hand he offered me, shaking it.

"My uncle is First 9. Lenny the Pimp?" Fleet added, and I glanced towards the wall where the various members' mugshots hung. Lenny was on there, and I'd heard Dad and Jax mention him before. He was currently in Stockton, imprisoned for supposedly killing three ATF agents. "I'm nineteen. Just patched in a little over a month ago." So he was only about two years older than me- made sense. About the same age that Jax and Opie had patched in, too.

"Eliza is Clay's daughter," Juice explained. I saw recognition shoot across Fleet's face.

"Ah, the birthday girl. Well, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for letting us gatecrash your birthday party." I had noticed a few other charters floating around, from further afield than the ones that commonly visited.

"The more the merrier," I shrugged.

"Yeah… little pilgrimage to where it all began," Fleet told me. "Ride when my uncle can't, you know? Anyway…" He raised his glass to me. "Happy birthday." He drank and then winked, disappearing off into the party. I watched him go, a little baffled, looking to Juice. He was smirking. I frowned at him.

"What?" I demanded.

"He asked me to introduce you," Juice informed me, sniggering. I rolled my eyes. "Fleetwood Janowitz. More of a ring to it than… what's your boyfriend's name?"

"Michael Quinn. What are you, a teenage girl?" I added, indicating he needed to stop that kind of talk. Juice just laughed.

"Nah, that's you. Come on. Let's go dance." I was even more surprised by that suggestion but then Juice was tugging me towards the area of the bar that'd become a dancefloor, his kutte now sitting securely over his shoulders.

* * *

 **A/N: So, Eliza's birthday is finally here, and Juice is finally a patched member! It seems like both Bobby and Donna have picked up on Eliza's reluctance to commit herself to Michael properly. Is it just that she's not ready for a relationship, or is it that she just doesn't want one with him? And who is this Fleet guy, where does he factor in? It's all questions. What did you guys think of Tiggy's gift? I thought it was a sweet little reference to their late night conversation that time. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, feedback is always welcome! Also, sorry for the wait, I've gotten unexpectedly busy lately.**


	11. Promises

**Chapter Eleven: Promises**

 _ **I don't care what you do at night  
Oh, I don't care how you get your delights  
We'll leave it alone and just let it be  
I don't love you and you don't love me  
**_ **~ Promises – Eric Clapton ~**

I danced with Juice for a while- just kooky dancing, really, until Jax reappeared and commandeered me, grabbing beers in one hand and my hand in the other and tugging me away from my party up onto the roof. The sky above was pretty clear, showing us the stars. I knew Jax came up here quite often to get away and to think, and the signs were there from a couple other empty beer bottles and a little stack of books. You could just about hear the noise of the party downstairs and a few people hanging around outside the clubhouse but it was a lot quieter and more distant. Jax handed me my beer, walking over to the edge and staring out across the lot at the garage. I went and stood beside him. On the way up here he'd been laughing and teasing me like he always did, but the atmosphere suddenly changed when we got away from the crowd.

"Teller," He indicated himself, reading the sign atop the garage, "Morrow." He motioned to me.

"Those are our names," I acknowledged jokingly, sipping my beer. He peered at me.

"Neither of us ever had a choice over our futures, kid. It's this place. This…town." I frowned now.

"You never thought about leaving?" I questioned. How was it that Kyle Hobart had described me all that time ago? As a 'legacy kid'. Jax was the same. So was Opie. So was that Fleet guy I'd met. Maybe there was no escaping it, but we all always had choices. Knowing we could choose was the only way I could wrap my mind around some of the worse people in the world and their terrible choices- and the fact that out of dark places came good things.

"Once," Jax replied distantly. He was looking back out now, though he didn't seem to be looking at what was in front of him anymore. "You remember Tara?" I'd met his ex-girlfriend a couple of times when I was younger. She'd left town to go to college and live her life away from the MC and from Jax- and had broken his heart. Gemma still hated the woman for it, and she hadn't been back to Charming since…. And it'd been a few years at this point. "I could've gone with her. I almost did…" He shook his head.

"Do you regret it?" I was a little young, and just a little drunk, for this conversation. But then again, so was Jax, at least on the drunk front.

"Thought about what you said to me, that night Hale brought you home. About me not needing to worry that you're the one who's gonna turn into your mother all over again." I raised my eyebrows. Jax glanced at me. "What do you think about Wendy? Really?" I sighed. I didn't have a lot to do with Wendy. When I spoke to her, I found her likeable enough, but that was when you got _Wendy_. Sometimes, you got Drunk Wendy or more often, High Wendy, and she was a bitch. A different person. Lately, she was trying, but I'd become sceptical of 'trying' when I was around eight years old. On the other hand…

"I think Tara left, and Wendy's not going anywhere." She did seem to love Jax. He nodded and then sighed.

"Yeah… Gemma thinks I should set the date." I raised my eyebrows. Their engagement hadn't even commenced that long ago, and I'd gotten the impression from both Jax and Wendy that they were in no rush "Yeah, I blame Opie. Since he and Donna set the date and got pregnant Gemma's not left me alone. Keeps saying she wants grandkids." I had to laugh.

"Well. Are you gonna do it?" I questioned. Jax hesitated.

"I dunno. Doesn't feel right… not yet."

"So don't," I shrugged. "You already live with her, sleep with her, whatever. Not like a bit of paper and a ring will make such a huge difference." Jax looked at me with a smirk, a smirk which slowly grew into a genuine smile. He nodded.

"True. Thanks, sis." I smiled back and shrugged again. Jax swigged his beer. "So… you know what you're gonna do next birthday? You'll be done with school. _You_ could leave town."

"According to you, us two are pre-destined to stay in Charming forever," I teased. He laughed.

"You know what I mean. It's your birthday. Supposed to talk about future plans and shit, right?" I considered this.

"I don't know. I spent my whole life looking forward to turning eighteen so I could get the hell out of Prothero." I'd probably have just ended up in Charming anyway, since I had nobody anywhere else. "Now I don't _have_ to get the hell out of anywhere, I don't know."

"You thought about college?" Jax suggested. I shrugged.

"Maybe," My grades weren't the best, though they'd drastically improved since I had a stable home life. It wasn't that I was dumb, it was just that up until recently school hadn't really been my main priority and to be honest, most of the classes didn't hold my attention. I wasn't failing anything but the only class I was excelling in was art. "Maybe art school or something. But I don't know if I want to. I like it here." Jax nodded.

"As long as you're happy, sis. That's all any of us wants." He came over and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek.

"Thanks Jax." He nodded.

"Come on, let's get back down to your shindig. You and Juice seemed to be having a pretty good time," He added as he opened the hatch so that I could descend the ladder back into the clubhouse. I waited at the bottom for Jax to follow before I answered.

"Well, it's our party." Jax looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I sighed, tired of this now. "Jax…. Nothing is gonna happen with me and Juice. I don't like him that way." Plus, there wasn't a snowflake's chance in hell that Juice would risk anything happening while I was underage, and given who my father was, well… besides, I was pretty sure Juice didn't see me that way either.

"You sure?" Jax questioned.

"Jax. I can be friends with guys, you know, without anything else going on. Besides. I'm dating Michael..." It felt weird to even acknowledge that out loud. It felt stupid too, after my conversation with Jax about Wendy and Tara and marriage. My insignificant high school romance, and even 'romance' was an exaggeration, if truth be told. Jax was steering me back towards the party now, the noise increasing as we headed towards it.

"I still don't like you with that kid." Jax had not forgiven him for trying to get me to go in his car with him the night of that kegger in the woods. Of course, I had long ago realised Jax would take issue with anyone I was involved with and always would. We emerged into the bar area. Fleet, Lenny the Pimp's nephew, was stood talking to one of his Chicago brothers by the bar but he caught my eye and shot me a grin. Jax, unfortunately, didn't miss that either. "...I'm gonna like you even less with _him_ , sis. You're probably right about Juice but I know _that_ look." I laughed and patted him on the arm.

"Don't worry about me, Jackson. Just go… do whatever it is you wanna do I'd rather not know about." Jax did chuckle at that. I didn't know what agreement he and Wendy had and actually I'd rather not find out, but I knew he did sleep with the croweaters. Maybe not as often as some of the others, but I did notice when Jax was particularly stressed or had a lot on his mind, he was more likely to. I wasn't there to judge, I'd just rather not witness it.

"Alright. What're you gonna do?" Jax was still glaring in the direction of Fleet, who was now firmly back in conversation with the other Chicago guy. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm just gonna mingle. I'll bet Dad or Gemma take me home soon before things get out of hand anyway," I pointed out.

"Okay. Have a good night, sis. Thanks for the talk," Jax added, giving me a squeeze around the shoulders before disappearing off into the crowd.

* * *

I still had my weekend job working at Lumpy's gym. The day after my party, I went in for an afternoon shift. Mainly what I did was take payment from people who came to rent a ring as a one-off, sign people up for memberships, and clean up after people. Lumpy was a nice old Jewish man who wholeheartedly supported the club and didn't make me work too hard. He still liked to coach and train local upstart boxers, which I thought was cool. And he didn't mind when Dana dropped in on me for an hour or so as long as I kept working while she was there.

But the day after my seventeenth birthday, she rolled up to the gym and this time she wasn't alone. Michael was with her. I saw him looking around, obviously never having been in Lumpy's gym before.

"Hey birthday girl," Dana greeted me cheerily, flicking her long blonde hair, "That your ride outside? Nice," She complimented. I smiled, but it was a little forced.

"Yeah, it's mine. Um," I eyed Michael. "Hey."

"Hey. So this is where you work, huh?" He questioned. "Cool." Yes, it was. I liked my job. "I was thinking about joining, you know. Getting into boxing." He had to be kidding. When I'd first told him, a few months ago, that I worked in Lumpy's he'd said he didn't 'get' boxing and thought it was just violence. Now all of a sudden he wanted to try it out? No.

"Do… you have the time? I mean, you work in the movie theatre and you have school and baseball..."

"Sure. I mean, I might not be as available for dates but I can train when you're partying with the club or whatever." Ah. Now it made sense- Michael was jealous about me having my birthday party with SAMCRO and was trying to find some other way to shoehorn his way into my life- like while I was at work. "I'm switching to Sunday's for the theatre so I can be here when you work. Then we get to see more of each other, right?" He grinned, evidently thinking I'd fall to his feet at his supposedly sweet vision of us.

"Mm-hmm… Let me just go grab Lumpy. He can talk training with you." I seized Dana's hand and pulled her away. Lumpy was right across the gym. "What the hell did you come here with him for?" I hissed at my friend as we went.

"Huh? Oh. He couldn't get hold of you so he texted me to ask if I'd heard from you. I said I was coming by..." Dana shrugged.

"I don't want him boxing, Dana. I don't want him coming here." She widened her eyes, apparently surprised by this information.

"How come? I thought it was sweet." I gritted my teeth. I wasn't exactly sure why I didn't want Michael there. I should want to spend more time with him outside of school or, at least, I shouldn't feel like I did, which was like he was violating my life. This job didn't even have anything to do with the club, which is what made it worse. I couldn't even justify it to myself that Michael just didn't belong around this because this… well, it was boxing. It was just sport to him and a job to me.

"I… I don't know, I guess. He might distract me," This was lame and I knew it. Dana shrugged, seeming to buy it.

"I'm sure Lumpy wouldn't mind too much as long as you two didn't, like, do it in the cupboard." I stared at her. The idea of 'doing' anything with Michael- it hadn't really crossed my mind. I fought the desire to cringe.

"I guess so," Is what I said instead, but inside I was pissed.

* * *

The guys from the other charters hung around for a week or so in Charming, getting in touch with the roots of the Sons of Anarchy. I was by now used to considering anybody wearing a reaper as one of the family, so I didn't really deem it worth noting that the number of patches around TM at any given time had increased, but it was pretty clear that the rest of the town had.  
Midway through the week following my birthday, Michael dropped me off after school at the garage. He'd shown up at the house that morning as a 'surprise', insisting me on driving me to and from school even though I now had my own car. I'd grudgingly agreed, and I'd cursed it at the end of the day when I remembered that Gemma wanted me at TM after school as she planned to take me shopping. It meant I had no choice but to allow Michael within a stone's throw of the MC.

As we drove in through the gates, I saw his eyes widen. All the Harley's were sat in a very long, gleaming line. In addition to the garage being busy, there were a number of kutte-wearing men stood around outside, smoking, chatting, sparring for fun in the ring.  
"Jesus. I didn't know there was some kind of party going on," He remarked, looking stunned as he parked up.

"No more than usual," I replied.

"What does that mean?" He questioned, and I mentally kicked myself.

"They're here from the East Coast and Chicago," I sighed, "Just visiting."

"You didn't mention it," Michael grumbled. I frowned at him.

"Michael… does it really matter? A couple of other charters are around. It's not unusual, they just come from further afield." He shrugged but I could tell something was still bothering him. I sighed and got out of the car, closing the door and going to lean against the hood, arms folded. Michael followed me a moment later.

"I just… want to know more about your life outside of school. It's like… you have secrets." I almost had to laugh at that.

"I don't have secrets," I huffed. "I just… what do you want me to say? Michael, you're not… you're an outsider to these guys," I didn't want to have this conversation. I'd been avoiding it this entire time- but now I could avoid it no longer. "They're… you can't just bring random teenage boys in and expect them to open up to it."

"So now I'm just a random teenage boy," He said moodily. I was getting pissed again now. Something about Michael lately just… aggravated me.

"To them, yes," I snapped. "Look. We're dating, right? Why does anything else matter?" He still looked grumpy but he didn't argue anymore.

"S'pose so," Michael muttered. "I suppose I should go. One of your _friends_ is waiting for you." I frowned and looked where he was throwing glares. Fleet had separated from a couple of guys from his own charter and was now leaning against the picnic table, looking over at me, frowning a bit in the sun.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I questioned. Michael shrugged.

"Yeah…." Then he seemed to change his mind. Before I knew it, he'd grabbed me and kissed me, his mouth crashing roughly into mine, enough for it to hurt and certainly bruise my lips. I didn't push him off but I didn't respond much either. When he let me go, Michael's cheeks were pink.

"Bye, Eliza," He said. I moved out of the way as he got into his car and started it driving away again now. When he was out of the gates I raised my hand to my mouth and wiped it. I was completely baffled by his idiotic behaviour. I was about to turn and head over to the office and let Gemma know I was ready to go, but when I turned Fleet had come over.

"What a douche," He commented, looking out after Michael's car. "Are you okay?" I was kind of surprised he'd asked. I'd only spoken to Fleet briefly at the party and on the couple times I'd glimpsed him since we'd only said hi.

"I'm fine," I replied, wiping my lips again. Fleet's dark eyes went to my natural pout.

"I'd love to show you how good a kiss can be," He stated. "But you're the princess, right? So I'm honour-bound to wait." Before I could answer, he'd blinked and walked away. Strangely enough, though, I was not as confused by what he'd said as I was by Michael. Fleet, at least, had been honest. That didn't mean I was ready to admit it though- even if another cute, age appropriate guy who was much more suited to me and my life was interested too, I wasn't prepared to let it go. Michael was immature but that could be fixed with time. As much as I knew I couldn't mix my family life with my teenage life, I wasn't ready to give up on the latter yet. So, I just let Fleet walk away, let Michael drive off, and headed to Gemma, who had all the answers should I ever care to ask.

* * *

 **A/N: A little heart to heart with Jax. Michael is pretty keen to ingratiate himself more into Eliza's life, but she's already getting claustrophobic. When do you think she'll admit to herself it isn't what she wants? And what about Fleet. He's made his intentions clear, but is he really just as bad an option for Eliza as Michael is?**


	12. Guns of Brixton

**Chapter Twelve: Guns of Brixton**

 _ **When they kick at your front door  
How you gonna come?  
With your hands on your head  
Or on the trigger of your gun?  
~**_ **Guns of Brixton – The Clash ~**

I was hanging out at home one afternoon just after the summer vacation began. It'd been a few weeks since the Michael kissing me in front of Fleet and assorted members of the club debacle and at this point, I was relieved to be away from school just because I hoped it meant I'd get some time to myself. Dana found it hilarious and constantly teased me about not really liking my own boyfriend, which didn't help, but of course she was graduating soon so she thought she had a pedestal to sit on and look down at my silly high school problems.

Fleet had gone back to Chicago with the rest of his charter, and after his comment about kissing me we hadn't had much time to say more than a few words to one another. Jax for one seemed relieved that he was gone, but I did my best to drown out his brotherly concerns.

On this summery afternoon, though, Gemma and Clay were both out and I was sketching at the dining table when I heard a car screech to a halt outside. Not expecting anyone but remembering Clay's constant warnings about enemies, I pulled open a drawer and removed a pistol. I hadn't been taught to shoot yet and Clay didn't want me carrying 'til I was eighteen, but that didn't mean he hadn't told me I needed to act like I knew what I was doing if someone unexpected showed up at the door.

I peered out but I wasn't surprised that it wasn't a crazed intruder or enemy of SAMCRO. I _was_ surprised it was Donna, though, looking heavily pregnant and stressed out as she waddled up the path towards the door. I put the gun away quickly and opened the door before she could knock.

"Hey," I greeted her, "I heard the brakes."

"Opie keeps telling me to bring the damn thing into TM," Donna stopped still and reached back to massage her lower back.

"Gemma's there right now- not here," I added, to clarify. Donna shook her head.

"I know. She sent me here to find you." I raised my eyebrows.

"Me?" I hadn't been expecting that. Donna nodded. "Erm, come in," I showed her inside and closed the door. Donna waddled into the living room and lowered herself onto the couch with some difficulty. She had the look of a woman who was getting tired of being pregnant at this point. I sat down beside her, curious.

"Eliza, will you be my maid of honour?" She asked me. And my jaw dropped. Not just because it was amazing that she'd ask me of all people- but because of something else.

"I- Donna, the wedding is in a week!" I exclaimed, suddenly realising. Donna nodded, looking harried.

"I know. I have everything sorted- everything, except that. Somehow, of all the fucking things to forget, it was to appoint a maid of honour!" She pummelled her fist into the arm of the couch, looking pissed off. When I blinked at her she sighed. "I'm sorry… look, I'd really like it if you'd do it. I know that we're not so close, but…. you're basically the only girl friend I have, I trust you, Ope loves you and you're going to look beautiful in purple." I stared at her, but slowly a grin spread across my face. I couldn't believe I was the only person Donna could think to ask, but I was honoured all the same.

"Of course I'll do it… I..." I hugged her around her bump. "Thank you for asking me!" Donna looked relieved as I let her go.

"Thank you so much! I owe you big for this. Gemma told me you'd be happy to do it..." Donna added somewhat shyly. "I mean, Jax is already best man so… Well, anyway, like I said, the theme is purple so your dress will have to be. We might have to go shopping for it tomorrow, obviously..." She was babbling now. "Oh my god, talk about pregnancy brain, I can't believe I only just asked my maid of honour..." I took her hands.

"Donna, it's fine. Really, we're gonna get my dress and that's the only thing left to worry about." She stared at me for a minute but then seemed to calm down.

"Oh God. I'm being such a bridezilla. Eliza…. Thank you," She said again. "You've saved my life." I smiled and hugged her again and something, like the sun finding the cracks in the blinds, registered in my mind dimly. Some friendships don't need constant companionship to have formed deeply, and without you even noticing.

* * *

The following day, Donna and I managed to pick out my bridesmaid dress. It was a deep purple, floor length gown, strapless and clinched in at the waist, and matched the rest of her theme. Although I wasn't the girliest, I actually had fun out shopping with Donna and afterwards, when we'd spent unnecessary money on other things we didn't need, we went for lunch at the diner. Donna, hugely pregnant, ordered what looked like half the menu and we sat and talked.

"So… Opie mentioned you talking to some boy from another charter?" She grinned over at me, her blue eyes sparkling, as she tucked her long dark hair behind her ear.

"Opie's gossiping now?" I frowned.

"Well, actually, it sounds like Jax chewed his ear off about it." I rolled my eyes at that- Jax, as usual, was being ridiculously overprotective.

"Fleet. He's from the Chicago charter. I spoke to him, like, twice. Juice introduced us," I shrugged, remembering how Juice had informed me that Fleet specifically asked him to do that. I still didn't really know what to think of the Illinois biker, but I did know that somehow I felt more connected to him than I did to Michael, and that couldn't be a good thing considering how many states separated me from Fleet, not to mention the fact I hardly knew him.

"You like him," Donna summarised anyway as our food arrived. I looked over at her, shaking my head.

"I don't know him… I guess he flirted with me a bit. But honestly… I think he's just a distraction." Donna began to eagerly tuck into her food, but she paused when I said that. She looked satisfied with something.

"I _knew_ you were bored of that Michael boy," She smiled triumphantly. I sighed. I hated to have to admit it out loud, since I felt guilty for even admitting it to myself, but the more time I spent with Michael the more I realised I didn't actually like him all that much.

"I'm not bored," I insisted, "I just… we don't have anything in common. He can't understand my life, and…. Shit, Donna, he's so fucking _clingy_ it drives me nuts. I can't even go to work without him showing up there, pretending he just wants to learn boxing. But he sucks at boxing and even Lumpy said he knows he just hangs around because of me." I shook my head at the entire situation. Donna looked over at me, her blue eyes softening.

"A lot of people are gonna have trouble understanding your life, Eliza. Even I can't claim to really understand Opie's," She pointed out kindly. I nodded.

"I know that. But… you understand why you're not..." I sighed. "Michael thinks the club is like, fun or a joke. He doesn't get that he can't just show up and force his way in, be best buddies with the guys and like… he also doesn't seem to get that they're all my family. Not just Clay, but all of them." He got absurdly jealous of the fact I spent time around the clubhouse with the boys. Donna nodded.

"It _is_ hard, Eliza. Sometimes I see them all… and you and Gemma and Wendy as well, you're all together and all part of this big thing and I look at it from the outside and I feel like… it all makes sense but none of it does, you know? So many different characters, different ages…" Donna sighed. "But Michael is a teenage boy. He's never gonna get it. And besides… I don't think you really want him to, do you?" I thought about what she said as I took a bite of a fry. She had a point, really, if I was being honest with myself.

"I guess not… but it's like I've said before… this is my shot at a normal teen life before I have to grow up and make decisions and… I've never had a normal life, Donna. I don't wanna throw it away just because I don't have tremendous passion for him." Donna nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of food.

"I can understand that, I can see why it's difficult… but I think you should dump him. You still have senior year to get through. Don't wanna do it with a boyfriend you barely like weighing you down… and besides," She suddenly got an evil smirk and a glint in her eye. "You can start looking at all your real options right? What about Juice?"

"Why does the world and it's mother think I have a crush on Juice?" I demanded.

"He's cute, he's young, he's SAMCRO so it's not like he doesn't understand," She waggled her eyebrows at me meaningfully. I shook my head.

"No."

"Well the only other one's you can really crush on in the club right now are Opie and Jax, and I'm afraid Opie is taken…. I guess you and Jax aren't really blood relatives though…" Donna mused, but I cringed.

"Yuck. Also, he's taken too," I reminded her of Wendy, whom she'd mentioned not long ago.

"Shit. I guess that's it then." Donna looked a little crestfallen at the lack of gossip. I nodded quickly.

"That's it," I said, taking a gulp of my soda. But something must've shown in my face because she suddenly leaned across the table and grabbed my wrist, looking excited.

"Oh my god. Who is it?" Donna demanded, eyes dancing. I stared back at her.

"Nobody! Like you said!" I squeaked, but I cursed myself as my face flooded with a blush. Shit.

"Kyle?" Donna questioned immediately. "Did he make a move on you? I always see him with younger girls." I shook my head with a grimace of disgust. "No, I guess Clay would kill him… hm… that leaves Bobby, Tig and Chibs. Jesus. That's worrying, they're all old enough to be your Dad."

"It's nobody, Donna. I swear," I lied, hoping to keep her from figuring it out. I might just die of mortification if it ever got out that I had a thing for Tig. I mean, I didn't think Donna would exactly tell the world but it was bad enough that Gemma sensed it. The fewer people who knew, the less chance it had of somehow slipping out and getting back to the man in question. If he knew he'd probably laugh at me, along with everyone else, and I'd never live it down. Plus Jax would probably cart me off to Canada if he thought there was a snowflakes chance in hell of my crush realising itself. Unfortunately, Donna was like a dog with a bone and far too smart.

"I doubt it's Bobby. He's sweet, but come on… and I mean you must've known him since you were literally a kid… Oh, I guess the same is true for Tig, Opie said before that he's been around forever… oh my god," Donna's blue eyes suddenly widened and became very round. "It's Chibs!" She squeaked. I stared at her disbelievingly. "Oh my god! Eliza, he's too old for you, you're just seventeen! And okay, I get it, he's got a sexy accent, but doesn't he have a wife or something?" I let Donna blabber on and on, my ears ringing. I couldn't decide if this was better than her knowing the truth or worse. Chibs was very sweet to me, handsome even with his scars, and he could always hold a decent conversation. Any woman would want him, probably. Also, even if the entire world thought I had a crush on Chibs there would be no dire consequences because the man was far too honourable to take advantage, and too nice to make fun of me for it. But Tig? Jesus. He was only _crazy,_ one of the biggest womanisers, a total loose cannon and Clay's best friend…. I decided not to confirm or deny. I'd just let her believe what she wanted to if it got her off the scent.

"It doesn't matter," I said, "But maybe you're right about Michael." I decided to leave it at that.

* * *

The morning of Opie and Donna's wedding, Gemma was zipping up the back of my dress for me as I finished my hair, piling it up nicely on the top of my head to expose my neck. It was rare for me to tie my hair back. It was even rarer for Gemma to wear anything other than black, but today she'd gone to a shade of dark blue, which was still different, I supposed.  
"You look beautiful, baby," She told me, stepping back. I looked in the mirror in the corner of my bedroom at my silhouette. I looked taller and older than usual in this. "Michael really couldn't make it?" Opie and Donna had technically told me I had the right to a plus one, but I hadn't asked Michael. Gemma didn't know that though.

"He's going to the beach with his parents." This wasn't a lie, but I was sure he would've stayed behind for the wedding. All week Donna's advice had rung in my ears- I knew I needed to break up with him, but I had no idea how. I just felt guilty and afraid to hurt his feelings.

"Well I'm _sure_ you'll have fun anyway," Gemma said this in a way which told me she knew all too well the real reason Michael wasn't here. Clay poked his head around the door.

"So this is the-" He paused, "Jesus. Almost didn't recognise my own daughter there," He said, blinking. "-This is the plan. The bike procession is leaving the clubhouse in an hour. Ope wanted you two riding with us, so Gemma you're coming with me, Jax is taking Wendy. Eliza, you're gonna go with Tig, he's gonna drop you at Donna's parents then catch up with us. We meet at the church, Ope gets married, then we all head over to the gardens for the reception." The gardens were regularly closed off to the public for weddings and other celebrations, a popular setting for newlyweds to dance under the stars. The church ceremony was mainly to benefit Donna's parents.

"She's going with Tig?" Gemma repeated, giving me a sideways glance.

"Hobart was volunteering a little too enthusiastically," Clay explained darkly, "Tig's the only one that shits him up." Gemma looked more reassured.

"Okay then. And everything else is figured out?" Gemma checked. She hadn't liked being on the outside of Opie's wedding plans, that was for sure, but since he wasn't actually her son she couldn't do much so she'd taken to pestering Jax some more about setting a date for his wedding to Wendy.

"Everything's done," Clay confirmed. "I just gotta make a call then we can go." Clay left me alone with my step-mother again. Her dark eyes glimmered knowingly as she took me in.

"You're very lucky that Clay hasn't figured you out, you know," She informed me with a smirk, "You're lucky that men aren't very observant." I shook my head.

"Don't know what you're talking about," I insisted. Gemma chuckled and reached up to adjust a loose strand of my red hair.

"One day, it'll be your wedding day. You'll be dressed in a dishonest shade of white, Clay will be misty-eyed and you'll walk down the aisle lined with Harley's to a man who is most definitely not going to be Michael Quinn." I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but laugh.

"I might not get married at all," I told her, honestly. I'd never seen the big lure to marriage. Sure, maybe if I ever fell in love I would, but it had never been something I'd dreamt of growing up like many other girls. I couldn't imagine myself wanting to marry anyone, much less doing it in front of a huge congregation. It just wasn't my style.

"You'll get married, Eliza. To the right guy. Now, come on, or we'll be late. You can't have you letting Donna down."

* * *

 **A/N: So a surprise but nice request from Donna. I was working on showing how their friendship formed to be so close, and this is a big part of that! I hope you guys liked it. Of course, and this isn't a real spoiler for those of you who haven't read it, but Eliza also goes on to be maid of honour for Lyla in 'To Fly Where The Crows Fly', so she actually appears at both of Opie's weddings in this role. Little factoid for you :) Now that she's accepted that she and Michael aren't going to work, will she work up the courage to dump him? And, of course, I can promise you Tiggy in the next chapter, as well as wedding shenanigans! Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed, followed and favourited so far. You guys are amazing.**


	13. Lost In America

**Chapter Thirteen: Lost in America**

 _ **Well I live at the 7-11  
I'm trying to play this guitar  
I'm learning 'Stairway to Heaven'  
'Cause heaven's where you are  
~ **_**Lost In America – Alice Cooper ~**

Tig Trager, wearing a white shirt for the occasion of Opie's wedding under his kutte, did a double take when I stepped outside of the house to greet him in my maid of honour dress. Then he let out a low whistle.  
"Damn, Kitten," He commented, "You sure you're not eighteen yet?" I plucked at the long skirt self-consciously.

"Don't tease," I said, blushing. Tig chuckled but his hand came up to rest on my shoulder briefly as I approached his bike.

"No, really, doll. You look great." I looked up at him but his blue eyes did appear sincere and he smiled genuinely enough at me.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"We gotta get going. You're gonna have to hitch that dress up to get on the bike, and I'm pretty sure the helmet might ruin that sexy hair-do you've got going on," He added, scanning my red locks thoughtfully. I produced the safety pins Gemma had given me and carefully began fastening the skirt so that it wouldn't get ruined on the short ride. "She comes prepared," Tig commented. He seemed to be in a good mood, so I smiled.

"I will be giving the headgear a miss, though," I informed him. He frowned.

"Clay will kill me if anything happens," He said immediately, forever Clay's loyal right hand. I looked up at him.

"Do you really think we're gonna wreck?" I checked, a little sarcastically. I guessed I must be getting a _little_ more confident around Tig, at least. It had been a long time coming, really, even though his mere presence still made me nervous as hell. Luckily, Tig smirked.

"Well, no," Came his amused reply.

"And I trust you, so..." I indicated his bike. He heaved a massive mock-sigh.

"Alright, alright. But hold on _tight_ , doll, okay?" I agreed, with a small laugh, and waited for him to mount the bike and start the engine before I settled behind him, holding on around his waist. For a brief second, I suddenly became aware that this was the first time I'd ever ridden with Tig. I also got a huge whiff of his scent- the leather of his kutte mixed with gasoline and manly cologne. The smell made me want to hang on tighter and put my face into his back so I could sniff it more deeply. But then he kicked off and we were on our way to Donna's parents' house.

Donna's parents lived just outside of Charming in a sort of farmhouse. None of the land was farm anymore, being owned by Charming's city council and not being put to, well, any use- but it was pretty to look at. And the bride-to-be was waiting anxiously on the porch swing, but she jumped up when Tig pulled up on the street. There was no real driveway area, but Donna's parents had a three-car garage attached. Affluent wasn't the word, really. I knew her Dad had worked lumber all his life, and ended up owning his company.

I climbed off the back of Tig's bike and she threw her arms around me.  
"Oh my god, save me, my mother thinks I'm having corkscrew curls," She said in my ear before letting me go. I giggled nervously as she stood back and admired the way I'd clipped my dress up to protect it. "That's so clever. You look beautiful, thank you so much for doing this!" She herself wasn't dressed for the wedding yet but it looked like her make up was done.

"Of course. And you're not going to have corkscrew curls, don't worry," I added, with a laugh. Tig was watching our exchange with a small smile.

"I'll see you both at the church, dolls. Donna, good luck for today," He added kindly. She looked kind of taken-aback at being addressed by Tig but she nodded.

"Um, thanks," She said. He winked at me and took off then, back towards Charming. I turned to Donna, and she was looking out at the road. "You know I think that's the first time he's ever spoken to me." She shrugged, snapping out of her reverie.

"Really? Well, Tig is..." I cast around for a word to describe him and came up blank.

"Opie always says he's kind of a dick." That made me laugh. Donna looked around at me.

"They're all kind of a dick, it's a part of their charm," I pointed out. Donna laughed too, seeming to relax. She linked her arm through mine and began to lead me inside the house.

"That's true. Apart from your sexy Scotsman, right?" She nudged me. My mind was so elsewhere, on the compliment Tig had given me before we set off, that I had to snap myself out of it and it took me a minute to even think what she was talking about. I was beginning to regret letting her think I had a crush on Chibs. Maybe it was preferable to the truth, but Donna had a slightly evil streak.

"No," I stated dully. Donna giggled.

"If you say so. Come on, let's go get me ready. I'm getting married today!" She bounded into the house looking more happy after I'd arrived than she had before.

* * *

The church scene had been quite a funny sight, in the end. Donna's side of the pews was barely filled with family members, old school friends and a couple of colleagues from her office job. Opie's side was so packed that some people were stood up at the back and around the sides, most of them in kuttes as San Bernardino, Tacoma, Reno and Vegas had all come for the celebrations. Even Opie's rarely seen mother, Mary, was in attendance. Donna looked radiant in her simple but beautiful ivory gown, her baby bump adding to the beauty of it all rather than taking it away. They got their blessing from the reverend, Opie kissed the bride, and outside the church walls the air exploded with confetti and flower petals.

I stood with Jax, watching as Opie, Donna and their parents posed for photos on the steps of the church. He grinned at me, looking genuinely happy for his brother.  
"It went off without a hitch in the end. And to think they were all worried." Opie and Jax had both worn suits and ties for the occasion, an image I didn't think I'd see twice on either of them. I knew that their kuttes were waiting for them though, and that the smart jackets and constricting lengths of silk round their throats would be the first things to go.

"It did, and Donna was so worried," I was grinning from ear to ear too.

"Opie was too," Jax confessed, "All this formal shit psyched him out. Looks happy now though," He added. I nodded. "Makes you think all this pomp and ceremony might actually be worth something when it's all over." I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah?" I recalled my last conversation with him on this subject, on my birthday. I suddenly realised something. "Where's Wendy, anyway? Gemma said you were bringing her here on the bike." The ghost of a frown came onto Jax's handsome face.

"She was uh… not in such good shape this morning." I knew what that meant- she got high off her face again. I suddenly felt terrible for my brother. He really did love Wendy. But once upon a time, Clay had loved my mother too, and her habits had ruined everything.

"Shit," I said, knowing there really wasn't much all else to say to someone in his situation, having been in it myself for most of my life. Jax looked off into the distance for a minute then shrugged.

"It is what it is, sis. Come on, let's go. Sooner we get to the party, the sooner we can intimidate the normals out of here and have some fun," He indicated Donna's nervous and disapproving family members. I couldn't help but laugh, just like Jax had intended me to.

* * *

By the time the sun was setting on the gardens, everyone had been fed and most of Donna's less friendly family plus Mary had made their excuses to go home, leaving mainly the MC and a few other friends and some of Donna's more worldly family behind. We'd all been fed and watered, and the bandstand had been decked out for a DJ to take over the night. When he did, most of the tables were cleared to the sides to form a dance floor area. Honestly, I'd been to the gardens zillions of times as a kid when I visited Clay, but this was the first time I'd really appreciated them. Beautiful roses grew all around, the bushes bedecked with warm white lights, and ivy made a canopy dripping from the bandstand roof. After Opie and Donna had their first dance, they were joined on the dancefloor by Bobby and Precious, Gemma and Clay and Kyle Hobart and his wife April.

I stood on the sidelines with champagne, watching. My phone kept ringing, and I kept cutting it off. Once it was just Dana, who didn't take offence at me skipping her call and just texted asking how things were going, but what felt like a million times it was Michael, bombarding me, getting more pissy as I ignored him. It wasn't a situation I could do anything about then and there, so I turned off my phone.

I knew I should feel bad, but I didn't want to think about my stupid teen problems on my best friend's wedding day. So instead I focused around on my family. Piney, still drinking his dodgy moonshine even though it was an open bar. Jax nursing a beer and a frown in the corner, having been stood up by his own fiancee. Juice and Tig working on two of Donna's nervous-looking cousins in a corner. These people were my family. I was determined that today would be a joyful day.

I didn't realise I'd be in such high demand, though. The first person to claim me after the slow dances was Opie. He was so tall that pretty much all we could do was link hands and move on the spot to the mid-tempo music, but he was grinning down at me the whole time. I'd known Opie since I was a kid and he was a teenager and I'd never seen him look as happy or carefree as he did on his wedding day to Donna.

"How does it feel to be chained down, Ope?" I asked him with a grin as I spotted Jax waltzing past us dramatically with Donna; he looked much more cheerful now than he had before, so I was glad to see the dance popped his brooding bubble for now.

"Could be worse," He chuckled, "You gonna be chasing that bouquet?"

"Not a chance in hell," I responded with a laugh. He hugged me when the song came to an end as he moved on to dance with Gemma. I was passed off immediately to Clay.

"Are you having a good time, honey?" My Dad asked me as he took my hand in his and twirled me around. "It's so nice to see you smiling again. Lately you've seemed a little down." I was surprised Dad even noticed this. I didn't really tend to talk to him about stuff, least of all boy stuff, and he was so busy all the time with the club that really I wouldn't blame him for missing things. I knew I probably partially had Gemma to thank for keeping him updated on my life, but sometimes I also forgot that Clay Morrow really wasn't the worst father.

"I'm good, Pop. This whole being a teenage girl thing just kind of sucks sometimes," I added, by way of explanation. He nodded.

"Yeah… Well, all teenage girls have to do if they got any problems is come to their angry, disapproving father. You remember that, okay?" Clay fixed me with his grey eyes. I nodded, understanding what he was saying, which was more than just that he would get rid of Michael for me if he wanted.

I got a brief turn with Chibs next, but Donna was so busy widening her eyes at me over the shoulder of Clay that I was driven to horrible distraction and we didn't speak much before Bobby claimed me.  
"You know you look a real woman in that dress," Bobby said as he twirled me extravagantly around. "I kinda miss you as the skinny ginger kid." I laughed. Bobby Munson was pretty much the only man who could get away with complimenting me that way without coming off as pervy.

"What about when Opie was a kid?" I questioned. Opie was stood over by the bar now with his arm wrapped around his new bride, both of them unable to stop smiling as they chattered.

"When Opie was a kid, I was younger, better looking- a few pounds lighter," He added, "He was just the same as he is now. A hundred feet tall, quiet, thoughtful..." Bobby sighed. "Way to make me feel like an old man, Little One." I smiled.

"I didn't mean to," I told him. "I might not be a skinny kid anymore, but I'm still ginger," I pointed out. Bobby chuckled.

"That you are. You look after yourself, Little One," He said, kissing me on the cheek before ducking out of the dance. I was still laughing as I headed over to get another drink. Most of the time there was no way the gardens bar would serve me but you tend to get away with things you normally wouldn't when Clay Morrow was your father. By the time I got over there, Opie and Donna were surrounded by well-wishers so I couldn't get close, but at the other end of the bar Juice was sat nursing a beer.

"What happened to the girl you were talking to? I thought you and Tig were tag-teaming."

"Tig's a shitty wingman," Juice said, but he laughed so I knew he was in good spirits. "Nah, they were both a no-go."

"And you're not dancing," I noted. Juice normally danced at the clubhouse- when he was drunk, at least. I made that statement instead of asking where Tig had gone, which was what I really wanted to know.

"You wanna?" Juice asked me half-heartedly as I received my drink. I shook my head.

"I think I need a break from it. Replenishing," I indicated the beverage. Juice nodded and drained his beer.

"Well if you change your mind I'll be over there with my dancing shoes on soon enough," He told me.

"Dancing shoes?"

"Shoes, a great sense of rhythm, awesome head tats, Fleet's cell number," Juice winked at me as he walked away. I rolled my eyes, though I was laughing as I watched him go. I took another sip of my drink and sat on a bar stool, kicking off my heels to rest my aching feet. The party around me was getting more raucous by now, more like a normal SAMCRO party but in a prettier, more elegant setting. But even Donna, hugely pregnant, was letting her hair down. She was being waltzed around by Piney.

For the first time since earlier on, before all the dancing, I turned on my phone. I had yet more messages from Michael. I didn't bother even reading them individually, just looked at them crowding up my inbox. Even as I looked down at it, another one came through followed by an attempt at a call. I didn't pick up, just glared down at the number. I thought about cutting it off or just switching the device off again but then I spotted a nearby, half-full but abandoned pitcher of beer and on a total whim, I dropped my phone in it. Immense satisfaction flooded me for a second as I watched it float there, until someone came and stood next to me and picked the jug up.

"Clay will be pissed." It was Kyle Hobart. I'd still never felt comfortable around this guy so I just avoided him usually- when he wasn't being spooked away from me by one of the other guys.

"It was an accident," I said mock-innocently. Hobart waved at the bartender.

"Tequila?" He offered me. I shook my head, grimacing. I wasn't really a 'shots' type of person, least of all with tequila, which made me feel sick. "So. You and Fleet Janowitz, I hear." Why did he always turn conversations in this direction? The other guys might ask out of interest or concern every now and then but somehow with Kyle it came up every time I spoke to him. I frowned.

"There's nothing for you to hear," I stated firmly. "It was just a joke between me and Juice."

"So we're back on Juice, huh?" He raised his eyebrow. I frowned. "I suppose even he's a step up from that high school boy..." He leered.

"Hey, Hobart, don't you have a wife somewhere?" Tig's voice loudly and clearly interrupted us. Hobart turned to look at his Sergeant-at-Arms. He looked pissed that once again his cornering me had been thwarted by Tig interrupting us.

"April was sitting with Gemma a minute ago-" He started to say. Tig fixed him with his cold, icy blue stare.

"I think she was asking after you, man. You better go show your face again. Before she gets worried." The way Tig was talking to him could put chills down the spine of even the toughest of men. He never took his eyes off Kyle, who suddenly seemed a lot shorter and shiftier than he had a minute ago when I was stuck with him by myself.

"Why'd she get worried? She knows where I-"

"She might have reason to be worried." Tig said this with an aggressive tone of finality. Kyle glared at him for a second then looked down and away.

"Alright." He grabbed his drink off the bar and stormed off, leaving me alone with Tig. I watched him go, my cheeks burning. Not just because once again, Tig was the one to rescue me, but because somehow the departing man had made me feel uncomfortable again. I didn't know how managed to do that- it was very rare nowadays for me to feel that way. I'd settled into Charming, I wasn't half as shy as I had been – except for around Tig- and yet he always left me with that feeling of being helpless and like my skin was crawling. It wasn't like Kyle Hobart was a full blown pervert. He'd never actually force anything, and ultimately he was probably a good guy- he just came on far too strong, reminding me of too many men I'd had the misfortune to encounter in the miserable past when I'd been the only straight-minded person in the home I shared with my mother.

"Don't worry about him, Kitten." Tig was leaning against the bar beside me now, looking more relaxed than he had. "He's an asshole."

"I know… I mean," I looked at him then quickly looked away. "I'm not worried."

"Good," He smirked at me, and I felt my stomach fall out. I quickly downed the rest of my drink. "You might wanna take it easy Kitten. Don't wanna have to tie you to my bike tonight." I'd completely forgotten that Tig was also supposed to be returning me home. It explained why his large hand was wrapped around a light beer. He caught my gaze. "Precious cargo I've gotta deliver." But this time his smile was real and if anything that was worse because my heart fluttered. Dana always said I was a hard-hearted biker girl in the making but I was never so sure around Tig Trager. He made me feel all the ways that Michael Quinn was _supposed_ to.

"I'll be okay," I promised him. The bartender brought me over another drink without needing to be asked. Tig raised his eyebrows, but his smile turned playful.

"All right, you drink that, Kitten. But it means you got yourself a babysitter. Right? Stuck with ol' Tiggy all night." He polished off the beer and I felt his hand on the small of my back. He was steering me somewhere.

"Oh God. Where are you taking me?" I asked, even though I plainly didn't mind in the least, feeling his huge, manly hand warm through the silky material of my dress.

"Where the whole room can see you. We're gonna dance."

* * *

 **A/N: Lots of Tiggy time, as promised! I tried to make Opie and Donna's wedding as beautiful as possible whilst still being different from his wedding to Lyla in the show! I also really liked spending just a little time with all the Sons. I think it's funny that Donna is convinced it's Chibs that Eliza has the crush on. Wonder how long that charade can be kept up when she's dancing with Tig in front of everyone! Thank you so so much to everybody who has reviewed and given me feedback- you guys are so kind.**


	14. Friday Night, Saturday Morning

**Chapter Fourteen: Friday Night, Saturday Morning**

 _ **Out of bed at eight a.m.  
Out my head by half past ten  
Out with mates and dates and friends  
That's what I do at weekends  
**_

 **~ Friday Night, Saturday Morning – The Specials ~**

I'd left my shoes off, given that the heels hurt my ankles to walk in, so when I was in the hands of Tig Trager, standing mere inches away, I felt tiny. He kept one side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk as he waltzed me ostentatiously around the dance floor.  
"You should count yourself lucky. I don't dance with just anybody, Kitten," He informed me. Somehow, maybe it was the alcohol, but I found my voice.

"You're only dancing with me because you've decided you're my babysitter," I reminded him, "You don't have to."

"Well everybody else got to take you out for a spin," Tig pointed out, "You're more popular than the bride on her own wedding, Kitten. Guess I wanted to see what I was missing out on." I glanced towards Donna, who was now sat at the side resting her aching feet. I knew she couldn't be more than a week or two from giving birth now, and as the night drew on I realised she must be exhausted. Opie was sat beside her, one of her feet across his lap, and he was rubbing her swollen ankles. I smiled at the sight, but the real reason I looked away was because, and it may have been my imagination, it seemed like Tig was kind of flirting with me and I had no idea how to respond. When I felt cooler, I looked back up at him.

"And were you missing out on much?" I somehow managed to say without blushing.

"I was missing out on a pretty girl on my arm, right?" Tig chuckled. I smiled but bit my lip. If Kyle said something like that to me my skin would crawl all over. But Tig's blue eyes danced with amusement and fun rather than leeriness and even though we were dancing together, his hand on my waist felt perfunctory and he held me a respectable distance away from his body. I knew it was because although he joked around, Tig didn't see me that way. Plain and simple. He was doing this favour for my Dad. And admittedly, he hadn't really been asked- but Tig did, at least, like me enough as a person not to mind my company. As a seventeen year old girl barely capable of meeting his eyes due to the embarrassing crush I had on him, this was as much as I could ask for.

"And you're protecting me from Kyle," I stated. Tig raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise. "Everyone talks about it basically right in front of me as if I'm not there and then acts shocked when I know stuff," I mumbled. It wasn't just this; this, at least, actually concerned _me_. Sometimes Clay, Jax and the others would talk club business in front of me, either forgetting I was there or forgetting that I wasn't supposed to be a part of that inner circle. And to be honest, I didn't like knowing things. I didn't like the sense of foreboding it gave me, even knowing little things that I shouldn't. I didn't like having to sharpen my focus and be on guard just because Hale or some other cop was in the vicinity of me. I liked the boys, the club I called my family, remaining that and that alone and not becoming the hardened criminals that everyone else saw them as.

"The guys trust you, Kitten. You're a smart kid…it's easy to forget that..." Tig trailed off somewhat awkwardly, though he didn't falter in dancing. I was a bit surprised myself that he figured out I wasn't just thinking about the Kyle thing, too.

"Easy to forget…?" I couldn't help but ask. He blinked and focused his clear blue eyes on mine.

"...Forget you _are_ just a kid." He looked away, over my head. I was glad I wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable. Still, even as I cast my eyes down, I decided that as the dialogue was open I might as well talk about it with _someone_.

"Why?" I said. I wanted to know why I was in this strange limbo. Also, I wanted to ignore the sting of confirmation of something that I already knew; to Tig I really was just Clay's daughter.

"I don't know, darlin'," Tig looked at me again. A slower song came on, and he slowed our pace too in accordance. "We can all see how young you are. But when you talk… shit," He sighed, "I'm not good at explaining this stuff. Look, you're mature for your age… grown up. Sometimes more than women I know in their thirties, forties… shit," Tig swore again. "I guess we know you can handle shit, so we don't have to guard ourselves around you or something."

I had to pause to think that one over. As if there wasn't enough evidence that my foray into being a teenager was failing, even Tig Trager told me that I didn't do a very good job of actually being a kid. But even though I knew it'd still bother me when the guys slipped up, I had to admit to myself that I felt better now I at least kind of understood. It came from a place of love and trust, not a lack of consideration or even worse, total ignorance of me and my presence.

"Okay," I said finally. Tig looked relieved I wasn't going to ask him more about that. At this point I did spot Kyle at the edge of the dancefloor, glaring over at us. Tig saw him too and he chuckled.

"Would you hate me if I admit I want him to make a move on you just so I have an excuse to put a dent in his face?" Tig murmured to me. And the ice finally cracked, because I laughed.

"Honestly, I get the feeling like you're not the only one," I replied.

* * *

The conversation I'd had with Tig at the wedding was not the first time I'd heard somebody express discontent with Kyle Hobart in the club. Clay was frequently coiled to spring around him and so was Piney- and to see those two on the same side of an argument was so rare that I knew instinctively it was going much deeper than his weird fixation on me, his clock-watching for my eighteenth birthday. All the guys did stupid shit, and sometimes that involved underage chicks. Not grossly underage, of course, but illegal enough to be going on with and the club's general attitude was that it was more stupid than it was worth the fun, so frowned upon it. But I frequently heard Jax complain that Hobart was late for church; once, I heard Chibs complain the guy was lazy and even around TM, Gemma bemoaned the fact it took him longer to get round to fixing up motors, only to do a shittier job than someone else.

I was at the picnic table outside of the clubhouse one sunny afternoon when I was joined by Opie. It was a couple of weeks following his wedding, and literally three days since the birth of his daughter. The tallest biker sat beside me, gazing out across the lot.  
"I thought you'd be at home with Donna," I stated, to start the conversation.

"She's at home resting. I brought the baby with me- Gemma's got her in the office for now, while she's sleeping," Opie explained. I smiled. I'd met the baby girl the day she was born, having been among the first to visit the hospital, along with Jax.

"Does she have a name yet?" I asked him.

"Yeah," Opie smiled, "We settled last night, finally. Ellie." I cringed automatically at the hated nickname that I'd only just gotten Clay to stop using. "I know. I told Donna you wouldn't appreciate it when she suggested the name, but when I told her why she was even more settled on it. I guess our daughter is kinda named after you," Opie grinned. Although I hated the name Ellie, I had to admit I was flattered. And besides, once Ellie started to grow I'd associate the name with her more than I would with the happy life I'd had before my Mom fell off the wagon and turned everything to shit.

"I guess so… So what're you doing?" I asked conversationally. Opie shrugged.

"Waiting for Jax… And Kyle," He said the second name with a sigh. I raised my eyebrows at this and Opie caught the look. He just shrugged and I guessed it was club-related. I didn't want to know and Opie was never usually one for sharing, which I appreciated. Opie peered at me thoughtfully for a minute. "Listen. I'm really glad you and Donna have gotten close. She needs someone…. Someone who gets it."

"Sure," I said, not having expected this from Opie. He nodded, looking down at his hands.

"Yeah…" At that second, Jax roared into the lot on his bike and backed it in line. After a moment he headed over to us. He flashed me a grin.

"Hey sis. Ope. Hobart here yet?" My step-brother questioned. Opie shook his head and Jax cursed: "Shit."

"I'll call him," Opie said, getting to his feet. He patted me on the shoulder on his way past, back into the clubhouse to make the call, leaving me with Jax. He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I immediately asked, defensive. Jax sniggered.

"I just saw your _friend,_ " He informed me, and I knew by his tone of voice alone that he meant Michael. "Stopped off at the convenience store for smokes and there he was… not for long. He sort of ducked behind some shelves when he noticed me." Jax looked altogether too proud of how afraid of him Michael was- although really some of it was my fault because I'd overplayed my hand a little just to keep him from showing up too much around the MC and invading my _other_ life as much as he had my normal one.

"Oh." I'd seen Michael twice since Opie's wedding. The first time he'd dropped by Lumpy's while I was working and thankfully, I'd been too busy to really deal with his shit. I just explained briefly to him that my phone got destroyed at the wedding. It wasn't a lie, I just neglected to mention that I dropped it in a pitcher of beer myself. The second time he had shown up at the house. Gemma had hovered behind me the entire time Michael was there, breathing down our necks. If it hadn't been for that, I would've chosen that moment to dump him. But, I did think he might be taking the hint as he wasn't showing up as much as I feared.

"What's going on, sis? You don't seem so jazzed about that guy."

"Jax." I didn't want to talk to him about boys.

"Oh come on. I'm not really here to have digs about him to you. Just back when we talked about it, at your birthday party, you seemed pretty strong on living this _average_ life but all summer instead of hanging around with your boyfriend or your friends from school you've been here." I looked at him reluctantly but I could see that Jax was being sincere in his interest. So, I sighed.

"I'm going to break up with him," I announced. "I should've done it weeks ago."

"Why didn't you?" Jax did a bad job of not looking smug.

"Difficult conversations," I muttered. He chuckled.

"Do it, sis. Get rid of him. We'll reconsider you dating again when you're thirty," Jax teased. But instead of getting annoyed like I normally would, I did laugh. Opie was emerging from the clubhouse at this point, looking pissed, not something I would like to be involved in.

"Hobart got into it with April. His latest teen gash," Opie grumbled. I stood up, taking that as my cue to leave. Jax smiled at me as I waved him goodbye and departed towards the office to go see baby Ellie.

"Do the right thing, kid," He muttered, squeezing my arm as I passed before he refocused his attention on his best friend.

* * *

I finally tracked Michael down that night, at his work at the movie theatre in Morada. His shift would end half an hour after I arrived, so I sat outside on the hood of my car, watching life go by until he emerged. I decided not to go in and let him or his work colleagues know I was there, because I wanted to spare him any extra humiliation. Everybody from Donna to Jax and the rest of the world in between had been telling me for so long that Michael wasn't right for me. I was just doing what needed to be done. To be honest, it didn't make me feel better about it.

I was steeling myself by the time my watch showed that Michael's shift was done. He'd be out in any minute. I slid off the car hood, just about ready, and moments later he appeared. As it was a Saturday night the theatre was pretty busy, so I hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to anyone else there. But I spotted when he emerged and I began to head across the parking lot towards him. I couldn't have been more than ten feet away when someone reached him first. Someone with long, perfect blonde hair reached him first. She flung her arms around him and he kissed her deeply. I was surprised she didn't choke on his tongue because in my experience he used far too much of that.

Five feet away from them, frowning, I realised who it was that was attached to his lips.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

Michael Quinn and Dana Peterson broke apart with a cartoon-like suctioning noise and turned to face me. The former's eyes went wide and very round.  
"Oh, shit- Eliza!" He exclaimed.

"Yes, that's my name," I responded pointedly. I didn't really give a shit about him, but I _did_ look at Dana. She had her hand clapped over her mouth, looking partly horrified and partly embarrassed that she'd been caught in the act by me. "It seems like I was right about you the first time we met, wasn't I?"

"Eliza, I…" Michael was trying to draw my attention back. I deigned to look at him. "I'm really sorry, I don't know what came over me, I just-" I rolled my eyes hard.

"Do you really think I'm that dumb? Like I'm meant to believe that little fucking _display_ was the first time? Please. You're lucky I came here to dump your ass anyway. Prick," I spat, before moving my gaze back to Dana. "I don't give a shit about him. But _you_ ," I took a step towards her and she actually took one back. I suddenly remembered another thing about when I'd first met Dana- I'd busted her nose. "You were supposed to be my friend."

"I-I- I am your friend Eliza! I am!" Dana began to cry. "This- this just sorta happened- he-he was lonely 'cause you'd been ignoring him and he asked me w-why and I just-"

"-Just shoved your tongue down his throat?" I looked her up and down in disgust. Fury was burning through my entire body now. I hadn't been lying when I said Dana's betrayal stung me way more than Michael's did. He was just a silly high school boy I'd mistakenly stumbled into dating. Dana… she had been my only friend at school. I'd helped her, taken care of her, accepted her even after we got off to a way rocky start. To be honest, given my lack of friends throughout my life, she'd really been my first one, period. And this was how it had to turn out?

"Hey, come on, you can't blame us! You're always off with your stupid biker guys, probably whoring behind my back anyway! So what if we got a little action?" Well, I hadn't even planned to spare Michael a glance ever again after the last one, but I turned right around to face him directly then.

"I'm whoring around?" I snapped. "With my _biker guys?_ " I laughed at him humourlessly. "Want me to call them, so you can say that about me in front of them?" I'd never do it, not in a million years. It was one of the strict boundary lines that I didn't want to cross unless absolutely necessary. But Michael didn't know that and being a Charming native, he also knew better than to want that. I saw him pale visibly in the neon light from the movie theatre's sign behind him. "You listen, you pathetic little boy- you're needy, you're immature, and worst of all? You're fucking BORING! Even if I did just open my legs to the first guy who came along," I threw Dana a look for this, "Sex STILL couldn't make you less of a dweeb!" Michael Quinn went from ghostly pale to bright red in a mere second.

"Eliza," Dana appealed again through her tears. "Eliza, please, I'm s-"

"No," I interrupted, holding up my hand. "Don't you dare say you're sorry." My fists were tingling with the urge to hit her again but this time, for now anyway, I decided my better option was to walk away.

* * *

 **A/N: Michael and Dana are snakes! Just as Eliza finally decides to chuck him, she catches them practically in the act and he was an ass about it too!**

 **I hope you guys liked the wedding scene with Tig. I really loved writing it, showing the earliest little glimpses of their future relationship. And tension mounting with Kyle in the club- that's all going to come into play. How about Eliza being the origin of Ellie's name? I thought it was cute. Thanks for reading, if you have the time please drop me a review!**


	15. The Bucket

**Chapter Fifteen: The Bucket**

 _ **It's been too long since I left the shed  
You kick the bucket and I'll swing my legs  
Always remember the pact that we made  
Too young to die but old is the grave**_

 **The Bucket – Kings of Leon ~**

When I busted into the house, I was still furious. I had been hoping Gemma was around because she might be the only person who could calm me down, but her car hadn't been outside so she had to be out. The second-best scenario would've been to be alone, but I was out of luck there too because instead, Clay was home, sat at the dining table reading something over. He glanced up when I walked into the house and slammed the door and it only took one look at my face before my father was on his feet.

"What happened, Eliza?" He demanded immediately, walking over to me.

"Nothing." The fact I was pretty much breathing fire totally negated my single-word reply.

"What's upset you?" Clay pressed. He held his hands up as if to place them on my shoulders and hold me to the spot but he didn't actually touch me.

"I'm not upset." Well, not in the sense of me being teary or sad that my 'relationship' was over. I didn't give a real shit about Michael. It was his and Dana's betrayal that irked me. For now, rage was all I could feel.

" _Eliza_ ," Clay growled, and now he did put his hands on my shoulders. "Look at me." I'd been edgy and looking for a way past my father but his firm, parental tone which he rarely asserted with me got my attention and I reluctantly lifted my eyes to meet his. I didn't look like Clay at all. I looked more like my mother had, though I had red hair, and I wasn't even a spitting image of her- evidently my features had come from further back in our family tree. Still, I was surprised to find that meeting my father's sleet grey eyes was calming. "What happened?" I took a deep breath before I answered:

"I… I was going to meet Michael to break up with him..." I began.

"Oh, sweetie…."

"No," I interrupted my Dad quickly. "I went to his work, you know, the movie theatre in Morada. He came out and I was heading over to him and… Dana appeared out of nowhere. They kissed… Guess it's been going on for a little while." Clay's jaw set and I knew he was pissed, and exactly what he might have the idea to do about it. "Dad. I don't care about him, okay? That's the whole reason I was ending it. But Dana… she was supposed to be my friend..." And suddenly I was crying.

"Honey," Clay sighed, hugging me, rubbing my back comfortingly. "I'm sorry. I know it's shitty..." He led me over to the couch and sat down with me. I tried to wipe away my tears.

"I just… I d-don't really have any friends you know… other than her and Donna… but Donna has the baby and Opie and she's around the c-club..." Clay was patting my arm now. I could tell he didn't really know what to do with a crying teenage girl.

"Dana… you didn't like her from the start," Dad pointed out. "Guess you were right about her."

"I know," I sighed, still swiping uselessly at tears that wanted to fall. "I j-just… God. Dad, when I moved here, I tried to d-do everything the right way. The normal way, 'cause this was my chance. Go to school, m-make friends my own age, have fun..." It was all Gemma had advised me to do, especially. "I th-thought I was managing to make a life here… and it turns out it's all bullshit!" Clay nodded, apparently thinking over what I said. My Dad wasn't really one to mince his words, but he also wasn't one to try and sugarcoat things for me. As expected, he didn't:

"Eliza… there were lots of reasons that you didn't grow up here, with me. Mostly because in the beginning, I thought you'd be better off with your mother, and the fact the club has so many enemies and shit just wasn't… convenient," He pulled a slight grimace at the word. "I know those are bullshit reasons. But I also knew what life can be like growing up a SAMCRO kid in this town. I did see Jax and Opie go through it… it's okay when you're just a kid. But as you get older, in this fishbowl environment… I wanted you to have a shot at a normal life. So you wouldn't think you have to become an outlaw, or turn your back on us altogether." I frowned.

"I don't understand," I sniffled.

"You've been through so much shit that no kid should ever have to go through or see. This shit… falling out with your friends, idiot teenage boys, that _is_ a normal life, honey," Clay told me frankly. "I know how hard it's been for you to connect with the kids at school. I've also seen you do so well, settling in here. I just… it's not gonna get easier, Eliza. Everyone in Charming knows who you are. And they're not gonna forget it, no matter how normal your life is. It can be pretty lonely." I nodded. Jax and Opie used to have friends when they were teenagers, boys and girls who weren't a part of the club life. Even as Opie had had Donna, Jax had once had Tara too. But she had trickled away with the rest of them as Jax got deeper into the club, his obvious otherness setting him on the outskirts of Charming's 'acceptable' society. Even though I was never going to be a member, I supposed the same thing was probably going to happen to me. The friends I made in the interim were not going to be permanent. I sighed.

"I suppose I never needed friends growing up..." I forced a laugh. Growing up a lonely little girl had been miserable. Clay seemed to know what I was thinking.

"You're never going to be on your own Eliza. Not with me or the club around. And if some kid and his high school whore-" Clay was getting pissed again. I cut him off by hugging him again. Clay was the last person I wanted to talk to about this, but somehow it turned out he'd been the best. He patted me on the back gently until I let go. He was still looking at me seriously. "If you ever want to get out of here, say the word, okay? I know you can go to college next year, but before that… you wanna move to Sacramento, LA, San Francisco…. Wherever. I'll emancipate you, and I'll make it happen, if that's what's gonna make you happy." I was shocked by this, and touched. But I shook my head.

"No, Dad… I don't want to go away. Charming is my home now..." I said, feeling emotional. He nodded, and then smiled.

"I'm so glad to hear that honey. Because even though I'd help you if it's what you wanted, I'd hate to lose you." Clay Morrow was not one for emotional heart-to-hearts, but on this occasion, as he got gruffly to his feet and left the room, he'd come through for me. I got to my feet and decided to head for my bedroom. I wasn't in the mood for art today, but I could use an early night after all the fun of this evening.

It was only after a long time of staring at the ceiling and the various angles of my bedroom as I tried to fall asleep that what Clay had said to me sank in properly, along with the hurt that had been buried beneath anger and shock earlier on rising to the surface.  
I was facing my senior year at high school like I'd faced every school year of my life: alone. Even if Dana hadn't betrayed my friendship, she had been a senior. She'd managed to scrape into some semi-shit college in southern California and would've been moving away in the fall anyway. And Michael, sure he was bland, but in the beginning we'd been friends and he'd been somebody to talk to in class. But the rest of my classmates were a mixture of politely distant and outright disdainful, depending on their family's stance on SAMCRO. Life, like Clay had told me that evening, was about to get very lonely in between the times I spent at the clubhouse or around TM, especially given the fact Donna would be busy.

I wasn't sure when the tears began to fall again but they weren't the violent sobs of earlier on. They were miserable, silent tears sliding down my cheeks and into my hair. Another year of silent days spent in the back of classrooms. Another year of whispers and rumours behind my back with nobody walking next to me to laugh off the foolishness of it all. I was feeling sorry for myself, and if Gemma had been there to see it or could guess my thoughts, she'd likely take me by the shoulders and shake it out of me. 'Toughen up,' she'd snap at me, 'Pick yourself up and carry on!'. Even my own personal mantra, 'crying never solves anything', would do no good right now.

So I just kept crying and feeling sorry for myself until I eventually fell asleep.

* * *

Ellie Winston was a tiny little pink bundle of joy. I held her carefully in my arms, watching her wave one miniature hand around from within her blankets.  
Gemma was preparing for another family dinner, and she had me, Donna, Precious and Luann at it- except not really, because Donna and I were parked on the couch, chatting and cooing over the baby while the older three women slaved away in the kitchen. I'd just filled Donna in on the events of just under a week ago, when I'd caught Dana and Michael kissing.

"What a bastard!" She cussed, looking way more outrage than I felt, something I was getting used to. "I'm gonna kick his ass." She said it so fiercely that to be honest, her threat seemed worse than any of the various ones Jax and the club boys had dished out for Michael Quinn. At my insistence, everybody was leaving it well alone.

"Nah. It's over," I shrugged. I was still more sad at losing my friend because of her dishonesty than I was at catching Michael cheating. "We're broken up. Doesn't matter why," I said.

"Eliza," Donna beseeched me with her clear blue eyes.

"No, I mean it. I'm done. No more boys." Intellectually I knew I'd probably still involve myself with a few more of the assholes in my life, but in that moment it was easy to swear off of them forever. Ellie gurgled as if to agree with what I said.

"Shit. Well…" Donna sighed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." For the most part, I was. I'd cried on that first night, at the thought of spending the next year and potentially the rest of my life mostly alone and friendless, but like all extreme emotions, it'd passed fairly quickly. Now I was just…. Dull. I was finding it hard to really care about much at all.

"Alright. Just as long as you know you always have me, any time you need to bitch or vent," She rubbed my arm and I couldn't help but smile. _Donna_ was the friend I needed. Fuck Dana.

"Yeah… thanks." I really meant it, so I forced myself to smile to prove it. At that moment, Luann emerged from the kitchen looking stressed.

"Are you two gonna help?" The blonde demanded, looking between us, before lowering her voice: "Eliza, please. Gemma and Precious are about to up and murder one another." I could believe it. Bobby's wife was, for want of a better word, crazy and Gemma's tolerance of the woman was in negative numbers. I carefully handed baby Ellie back to Donna.

"I'll go," I told her and she smiled gratefully; she was still strangely shy of Gemma, and wasn't too sure about these dinners, or being around the club in general. I headed into the kitchen where Precious and Gemma were giving each other a lot of evil looks and snide comments. I glanced at Luann, grimacing. She just shrugged back at me and picked up a bowl of whatever that she'd been mixing.

"What can I do?" I questioned uncertainly, looking around at the organised chaos of the place. Gemma looked over at me.

"The salad." I looked awkwardly over at Precious, who had been shredding lettuce as I spoke. She looked around.

"And what am _I_ supposed to do? You won't let me touch anything else," She snapped.

"Why don't you go wake up Tiki from his nap and you and Donna can figure out where you guys are gonna sit with the babies." Precious flung down the large knife she'd been holding none-too-gently and aggressively stormed past me, mumbling something about 'damn little tart allowed to do more than I am'. I glared after her, pissed. Now even Bobby's wife was calling me names. I seemed to be catching a lot of that lately.

"What was that about?" I grumbled to Gemma as I picked up the abandoned knife and started slicing tomatoes.

"That old gash needs to be pruned if you ask me," My step-mother replied sharply. On the word 'pruned', she snapped the scissors over the piece of string holding the cooked meat joint together. I raised my eyebrows.

"Pruned?"

"She's always been a damn gold-digger on Bobby and bitchy at that. Never did know what he saw in her. She doesn't fit the bill for SAMCRO." I suddenly very much regretted agreeing to help Luann out. I looked at the ex-pornstar and she just avoided my gaze.

"Bobby loves her," I said lamely. Gemma scoffed.

"Ha. She's a failed old lady, trust me. I give it a few months." The back of my neck prickled ominously, but the roar of approaching Harley engines thankfully broke the horrible atmosphere up in the kitchen. I quickly dropped what I was doing.

"I'll get the door!" I raced off before Gemma or Luann could stop me, casting a significant look towards Donna, who was now also joined by Precious and her and Bobby's toddler son, Tiki, on the couch and looked fairly bemused, as everyone always was, when they met Precious.

Jax was the first on the doorstep, but the whole club wasn't fair behind him. He grinned and hugged me when he walked in, giving me the impression the guys were in a good mood even if the women weren't. Sure enough, Clay and the others followed him, laughing and joking with one another. I felt an immense sense of relief that the tension would inevitably dissipate with them here. Each of the Sons greeted me on their way past, and last to enter was Tig. He winked and kissed me on the cheek before heading towards the table, leaving me hiding a blush as I closed the front door and made my way in. Luann and Gemma were carrying out the food and laying places, and I glared at Donna as she switched places at last minute to land me next to Chibs at the table rather than Jax on the other side, where I normally sat. She still believed I had a thing for the Scotsman and as humiliating as it kind of was to have her make fun of me, it'd be much worse if she knew the truth so once again I kept quiet and began to load food onto my plate.

It was time for another family get together.

* * *

 **A/N: I know not a lot happened here, but I thought a little father-daughter bonding time would be good! Thank you so much to everybody that reviewed. You guys are too kind to me!**


	16. Stay With Me

**Chapter Sixteen: Stay With Me**

 _ **Well in the morning  
Don't say you love me  
'Cause I'll only kick you out of the door  
~ **_**Stay With Me – The Faces ~**

The first sign that this wasn't going to be an ordinary family dinner was the fact that Precious and Bobby spent most of it outside, arguing, rather than eating the food. The first half of the meal was jovial, full of laughter. Obviously the club side of stuff was going well for a change. Kyle didn't even show up, apparently spending time with his wife and kid in light of their recent troubles. Luann kept everyone entertained with updates from Otto and stories about the girls who worked for her down at Cara Cara. Gemma's sour mood even brightened up thanks to Clay being extra affectionate, which Jax and I, as per tradition, pretended to barf over. I was sat beside Chibs and Donna kept winking at me across the table every few minutes. I was much more distracted by the man I had on my other side. Tig's arm brushed mine every time he reached for his beer and I was hard put to ignore it.

Then, during the second half of the meal, the atmosphere seemed to transform.  
"Heard Darby's dealing in Morada," Came Piney's grumbled comment. And then every face at the table turned towards Jax, who stopped eating with the fork halfway to his mouth. He caught our gazes and set his fork down, his handsome face growing grim.

"The agreement we have with Darby is he doesn't deal in Charming. Can't stop him in Morada."

"How long has he been at it this time?" Gemma wanted to know. And I knew why- the million dollar question being, did it tally with Wendy's most recent relapse? Jax looked at his mother, knowing the reason she was asking just as well as I did, but it was Tig who spoke beside me.

"We go see Darby, we shut this shit down." He met Jax's eyes for a second then shrugged and continued eating as he spoke. "We gotta look after this, brother. For your sake, and the sake of Charming."

"He's right. We're trying to keep your old lady clean. Your old lady, the croweaters, the townsfolk," Clay listed.

"And kick off shit with the Nords," Chibs interjected. I looked over at Donna. She looked deeply uncomfortable with this conversation and it definitely wasn't something that would ever usually be discussed over dinner- it was only because of Wendy that it was being dragged out for this long.

"Guys," Jax sighed, "The club comes first. We inflame Darby, P.D. comes sniffing around and we go through that shit all over again when we only just got it to calm down because of the Mayans. _I'll_ worry about my old lady," He added, glaring at Clay in annoyance. I was biting my lip without meaning to, nervous at the tension that was suddenly filling the air. Gemma looked like she was itching to say something, and I knew if it concerned Wendy lately then it could be nothing good. She opened her mouth and I heard myself speak before she could.

"Anyone want another beer?" I questioned. And just like that, the guys all turned to look at me and the tension broke.

* * *

 _ **Jackson's P.O.V.**_

 _Tensions ebbed and flowed around my mother's dinner table. We'd had a pretty jubilant day among the club but it was really the discomfort between the women that changed the way we were flowing. Bobby and Precious were tense and at the best of times, Precious didn't get along with Gemma or Luann. My little sister, Eliza, was good friends with Donna now, which made it a little easier, but something seemed to be going between the two girls as Eliza kept scowling across the table at Donna's pointed looks. And then, my mother had to go and allude to Wendy._

 _Wendy Case wasn't perfect. Hell, maybe she was terrible for me but I loved her. As much as I could love anyone that wasn't Tara. Yeah, a couple years had gone by but I still thought about her… still, as much as Wendy's habits bothered me, I didn't like anyone else criticising her. But just as things were about to get ugly, out of nowhere my kid sister came out and saved us all._

 _It might sound a little strange, but Eliza sometimes felt like the only person I could really talk to about shit. But especially when it came to Wendy, she was the only one who really got it. Her mother had been a junkie too, she'd grown up with that shit day in and day out. When she'd moved to town I'd been worried. In my eyes, she'd always be a little girl. A long time ago, when Gemma first hooked up with Clay, I'd become her big brother and I took that shit seriously. I was concerned that being around the club would do her no good, that she wouldn't be happy living full time in Charming. Maybe the damage that her Mom had done growing up had been to much to fix. But, I was glad to see that for the most part my worries had been unfounded. She was one strong kid. My main anxieties for her now involved boys and men. I didn't trust any man with her as far as I could throw him. And a part of me still thought she should leave Charming the second she could, go to college and go have a normal life. I didn't want this for her… but that moment, at dinner, when she called order just by going to grab me and my brothers beers- I felt pride and respect rise within me._

 _After the actual dinner had dissipated, and a few of the guys had left, I headed into the kitchen after my sister. She'd tied her famous red locks back and was doing the dishes, but she smiled when I entered._

" _Hey, kid," I greeted her, leaning against the counter with the rest of my beer._

" _Hey," She returned._

" _Look. Thanks for what you did, earlier, throwing my Mom off the scent." I imagined Eliza got the same kind of crap I did, but worse, living right under Gemma's roof. Clay was a serious guy but he was still way more relaxed than my mother. If Eliza had figured out a way to allude her more serious interferences, that could only be a good thing. She did smile at me knowingly._

" _I figured you needed a break. Besides, you were talking about that Darby stuff in front of Donna and she doesn't like it." Eliza said it flatly, a statement of fact. I knew Opie didn't tell Donna much, knew that her acceptance of the club hinged on her not fully knowing the true nature of SAMCRO's business._

" _Well, you did a great job kid. You're gonna make a great Queen one day," I told her. She twitched and looked at me strangely._

" _Queen?" She repeated doubtfully._

" _Well," I realised maybe she wasn't_ that _into the idea of being ingratiated with the club so I trod carefully. "I was kidding. But you know how to navigate those conversations pretty well." She relaxed and smiled again._

" _Honestly, I prefer not to know things either." When I'd grilled Tig over what the hell he was doing dancing with my sister at Opie's wedding, he'd told me she'd mentioned not really appreciating the fact we forgot she was just a kid and not a member. As Clay's kid, and because of who she was in herself, we trusted her intrinsically and sometimes that meant we forgot to zip our mouths around her. Apparently she liked not knowing- the less she knew, the less she stood to let us down. I'd let Tig go then. He seemed on his best behaviour with her, there to look out for her like Clay asked._

" _I know," I told her apologetically. She finished washing the dishes and dried her hands. "Bobby took Precious home before Gemma killed her. Luann took off and so did Chibs," I said, changing the subject, "Donna and Opie are about to head home with the baby, too, but looks like you're stuck with the rest of them for a while."_

" _I should say goodbye to Donna and Opie," Eliza said softly. "What about you? You staying?" She asked me. I hesitated. Honestly, I'd rather avoid going home for as long as possible but I'd done that everyday this week so far, only going home when I knew Wendy would already be passed out._

" _Nah, I should make a move." She nodded. She went to walk by me into the living room again but then she paused and looked at me astutely._

" _Wendy might just need a reason to stick to something. The longest my Mom ever went clean was when she had me and Clay." She didn't say anything else, just drifted into the other room, but it left me standing there winded. Wow. My little kid sister, because blood didn't matter, knowing exactly what I needed to hear._

 _Even if she didn't believe it, and I'd rather it wasn't true because it meant she'd probably become someone's old lady, I knew she'd make a great Queen one day._

* * *

It was the middle of the night when I woke up needing the bathroom. Of all the dinner attendants, Tig, Hobart and Juice had ended up getting too wasted after dinner to drive home, meaning they were all crashed downstairs in the living room. I'd gone up to bed around one in the morning, when they'd still been drinking, but the house had fallen gradually quiet after that. I woke up when everyone was supposedly asleep. But on the way back from the bathroom, a small noise in the silent hallway almost made me leap out of my own skin.

I span around to see Kyle Hobart stood there, holding his hands up apologetically.  
"Sorry, Kitten. Needed a piss," He told me, his voice slurring and informing me that he was still drunk.

"Don't call me Kitten," I said automatically in a low voice.

"Tig calls you that," He shrugged. I stared at him uncomfortably as he took a few steps closer.

"And you don't," I retorted. He raised his eyebrow.

"Does little red have a crush on old Tigger?" He asked, leering down at me. It reminded me horribly of growing up with my Mom, the tanked up assholes who'd pretended they only stumbled into my room by accident, but whom I always sent packing. He was no different, I reminded myself, brother to my Dad or not.

"You're drunk," I told him firmly, "I'm going to bed." I turned and he suddenly lunged out and grabbed my arm.

"Aw come on, don't be like that. I was only kidding." He let go of my arm once I'd turned to look at him. But then again, it might have had to do with the expression on my face. Now, out of nowhere, I was angry. In this home, with my Dad and Gemma, I was safe, always. That had been true all my life. I didn't think he was stupid enough to hurt me, but that didn't mean that the fully grown man, twice my size, wasn't capable of being intimidating. And the fear that I felt made me furious.

"It didn't sound like a joke," I took a step towards him and I could tell it took him aback. My teeth were gritted. "And that's because it wasn't. _Leave me alone,_ or I swear to God I will wake Clay up right now and you can kiss goodbye to your patch." He stared at me but then he chuckled.

"You're adorable when you're pissed, baby girl. I promise-" He reached for my hand. I shook him off, taking the step back again to be out of his range.

"No, _I_ promise," I growled, "That if you ever touch me again I will _knock you the fuck out_. Do you understand?" It didn't matter that I was incapable of it. The threat was real, even if I had to call in my Dad and step-brother to do it for me.

"A little girl like you, huh?" Kyle obviously picked up on the obvious disadvantage I had in this conversation.

"Yeah, a little girl like me," I snapped back.

"What's going on here?" Another slightly slurred voice entered the hallway. Since all of us were whispering, we'd managed to avoid waking Gemma and Clay up, but none of the exchange was any less heated for lack of volume. Kyle turned and revealed Tig stood there behind him, his dark curls messy, eyeballing us drunkenly. But when he saw me he seemed to straighten up- come more to his senses.

"I was just going to take a piss," Kyle told him. Tig advanced on him then and this time it was Kyle who took a step back. Then another, then another, 'til Tig had angled him against the wall. I felt my eyes widen as I saw how suddenly aggressive this had become in the darkness of the house.

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you, Hobart? She is out of bounds. You stay the _fuck_ away from her. Leave her alone. Stop cornering her, stop fucking harassing her, keep your sick little mind on your job and leave it at that." Tig didn't raise his voice but the dangerous glint in his blue eyes said it all.

"Tig, brother-"

"No. Don't _'brother'_ me. You are on thin fucking ice already, Hobart. Talk to her, mention her, even look her way ever again and I swear to God I'll rip your damn throat out and I won't wait for Clay to give the order." My jaw was pretty much on the floor. I was entirely shocked by what I just saw. Tig stepped back and Kyle simply went to the bathroom, leaving us without so much as a glance at me- heeding Tig's words very literally. I swallowed, feeling nervous for a whole new reason now. Tig looked around at me. "You okay, Kitten?"

"Yeah," I replied a little shakily.

"Go back to bed. I'll make sure he doesn't come back," Tig said. I looked at him confusedly. He shook his head. "C'mon." I nodded and turned back, walking to my bedroom, tiptoeing past the door of Clay and Gemma's bedroom. When I got to my door, I looked up at him. "I'll be here if you need me, Kitten. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I climbed into bed and not long after, I fell asleep. It was only in the morning when I woke up that I found out how literal what Tig had said was- he'd slept on the floor right outside my bedroom door. I stepped over his crashed-out form with a smile on my face. I knew he was just being the soldier my Dad expected him to me, but I still felt special knowing that Tig Trager looked out for me without needing to be ordered to do so.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza is realising that she has some influence over the boys' tensions, and learning how she can help them- in the same night, learning what they can do for her as Tiggy gets all protective! Plus, Jax predicting the future, maybe? Hmm...**


	17. Memory Motel

**Chapter Seventeen: Memory Motel**

 _ **We spent a lonely night at the Memory Motel  
It's on the ocean, I guess you know it well  
It took a starry night to steal my breath away  
Down on the water front  
Her hair all drenched in spray**_

 _ **~**_ **Memory Motel – The Rolling Stones ~**

The first day back to school, it was extremely clear to me what kind of year my senior year would be.  
In my first class, Spanish, I was of course sat via cruel teacher's seating plan right beside Michael Quinn, whom I hadn't seen since the evening I caught him with his tongue down Dana's throat weeks before.

The truth was, I wasn't angry anymore. To be honest, I really didn't care. Apparently, Dana had managed to scrape into some shitty college in the south of the state and I wouldn't have to see her anymore, and Michael's reputation had spread. His baseball buddies were proud of him, of course, but the girls were steering well clear from what I could tell. Still, despite my apathy, I knew when he turned his doe eyes on me and offered me his hand to shake before the bell for first class to begin rang that I had to draw a line.

"Eliza," He said formally, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry about what happened between us over the summer-"

"Michael," I interrupted him coldly. "Save it." I turned myself to the front, vowing not to look at him for the rest of the year. But Michael apparently didn't understand the hint that I would much rather just pretend he didn't exist.

"What Dana and I did, it was a betrayal-" And three seconds into my vow, I was forced to break it. The truth was over the summer, away from school, I guess a lot had changed for me. Or, really, it was like things had been set in stone. I was Clay Morrow's daughter. Jax Teller's sister. I was a goddamn outlaw baby. At home, and around the club, I could be the kid, the one everyone looked out for, but in the outside world I had to look out for myself. I suddenly understood why Gemma put on such a hard front- it was so that little shitbags like Michael couldn't put me in the position he was currently trying to, one where anyone could feel sorry for me or feel pity for something that had barely glanced off my hardened outer shell.

"You know what, Michael? I don't give a fuck," I began, keeping my voice quiet and even, "I never even really liked you. You are just a pathetic little boy I _used_ to try and kid myself that I could fit in. But if fitting in means I have to act like a tart like Dana, or make out with the likes of you, then I'd much, much rather stick out like the sore thumb I am. Now, when I told my father what you did, you have no idea how much it took for me to get him to see that you are not worth the fist he would've thrown at you. I have no choice but to sit next to you in this stupid class. But I swear to God, breathe one word to me this year after this, and I will tie your rubbery, ain't-shit tongue in a big knot so you can never kiss another high school skank again. Do you understand?"

The classroom had gone extremely quiet while I was speaking, even though I hadn't raised my voice. I barely had a chance to enjoy Michael's flabbergasted facial expression before I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. And of course, like the giant cliché my high school life was, the teacher was standing right there, having heard most if not all of what I'd said.

So, I found myself in the principle's office before second period had even rolled around. Mr Willis, the head, looked extremely tired and slightly wary of me.  
"You do understand that making threats to other students is unacceptable behaviour?" He asked me. I looked across at him, annoyed.

"You do understand that it's not physically possible to tie another persons tongue in a knot?" I retorted. I was pissed off and just wanted to go home by now.

"I'm going to have to call your parents," Mr Willis said with a sigh. He looked very tired and it was only the first day of the semester. I glared at the wall over his head.

"Be my guest." We both knew that Clay and Gemma would take my side on this. He confirmed this by heaving another huge sigh.

"Eliza. I've lived in this town my whole life- I had your step-brother in here dozens of times for similar reasons. I know there's no point in this chat. You're not a bad kid. Actually, you're a very good kid, especially considering your troubled background..." I gritted my teeth and finally looked at him. "I would have turned a blind eye. A little teenage drama is normal- except, when _you_ make a threat, people hear it and take it seriously. I know that's not fair- but if I don't impose a consequence and something does end up happening to Michael-"

"I get it," I said shortly. And that was how Gemma ended up strolling into the school, looking distinctly out of place and probably scattering frightened freshmen out of her way as she marched through the corridors to Mr Willis' office. She was wearing shades and kept them on when she placed her hands on her hips.

"You gonna tell me why I had to take time out of my busy day to come up here, Frank?" She addressed Willis by his first name. The poor man already looked flustered.

"Um, I'm sorry Gemma," He stammered, then steeled himself: "Eliza was overheard making some, uh, choice remarks to a fellow student."

"Which fellow student?" Gemma asked, sounding like she could already guess.

"It was, uh, Michael Quinn." Gemma smirked and slowly removed her shades, looking over at me with her dark eyes glimmering.

"What'd you say, baby?" She questioned me. I was still pissed off at the whole charade of being written up for this bullshit, so I answered as bluntly as possible:

"I called him a pathetic little boy, said I used him to fit in, but that I don't want to fit in with skanks like Dana, that he should be grateful to me that Clay didn't knock seven shades of shit out of him, and that if he ever spoke to me again I'd tie his tongue into a big knot." Gemma smirked wider, looking extremely proud as she turned her gaze back to Mr Willis.

"You wanna tell me which bit of that wasn't justified?" She inquired of him almost conversationally. I saw Mr Willis shrink a little and I found it kind of funny that he was clearly scared of Gemma.

"W-well, she can't just go around making threats against her classmates-" He stuttered.

"You're right. Eliza, make sure that your threats aren't empty. Can't have people thinking you're full of shit." I suddenly had to work extremely hard not to start laughing. Mr Willis was spluttering.

"Gemma, I don't think that's the message that you should give-"

"You trying to tell me how to raise my kid?" Gemma asked dangerously. He looked terrified now. "I think we've had this talk a time or two before, Frank. Now answer me this: has Eliza actually hurt a single hair on his pretty boy little head?"

"Well, no, but-"

"And do you have any real concerns for her behaviour other than this single incident?"

"She did attack another student last year," Mr Willis said quickly, "On her very first day here, I recall." I raised my eyebrows but I didn't need to comment that he had personally told the other teachers to let it go because of who I was, only for him to turn around this time and use who I was as a reason to penalise me. I didn't need to say any of that because Gemma had it covered:

"I don't remember you calling me or her father then," She remarked in a satisfied way. Mr Willis looked defeated. "Eliza is a special kid, Frank," I looked down, kind of embarrassed now. "She's smart, sweet, talented- and she keeps her head down, stays out of trouble. You and your staff better back off and leave her alone. Things will go way more smoothly for all of us that way. Oh, and should Michael Quinn complain or his parents raise concerns- you can refer them directly to me, got it?" Mr Willis couldn't do anything but nod. "Alright. Now, don't call me up here for this kind of bullshit again, you hear me? I'm a busy lady. Eliza, come to Cara Cara after school. Have a good rest of your day." And just like that, Gemma was gone.

I was left alone with Mr Willis, who was kind of scratching his head trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. I looked over at him expectantly until he cracked.7

"Go- go back to class, Eliza. Stay out of trouble, okay?" I just nodded and left.

* * *

The rest of the day at school went with people murmuring and whispering wherever I went. I assumed it was because news of what'd gone down over the summer, and in Spanish class, had reached their ears, 'til I overheard something unsettling in the girls bathrooms about the club and their possible connection to a drive by shooting in Lodi, where loads of these kids' parents worked. It was an event I'd somehow missed having anything to do with the club, through careful selective deafness. But the girls I overheard said something about _'She's walking around all proud of herself. I guess she's proud of the fact her Dad is a murderer'._ Only then did I understand the difference between this first day of school and my other first day of school; last year, the town had largely been supportive of the MC. People had wanted to know me because they were curious and excited about the club. This year they were frightened and public opinion was negative, and that also shone on me.

I pondered this as I drove to the porn studio after school. I had no idea why Gemma wanted me to go there. I was kind of in a down mood. I'd become a master of not letting other people's opinions bother me in the years I'd lived with my mother and her reputation, but this was the first time in Charming that my life had become difficult because of the same buzz of gossip. Gemma was just exiting the studio as I pulled in, Luann in tow. I got out of my car and greeted the two women.

"Hey honey, how was school?" Luann questioned, the gleam of her eyes telling me that Gemma had already filled her in on the events of that morning. "Good on you for not letting a man put you down like that. Too many asswipes like that in life…"

"I wouldn't call him a man," I told her, thinking that I probably wouldn't see Michael as a man even when he was fifty, "But thanks."

"I called you here because we were talking about organising a thing for your Dad's birthday," Gemma told me. Clay wasn't one to make a big deal over birthdays- I knew that for sure, so I frowned at my step-mother.

"Are you sure that's what he'd want?" I asked her. Gemma grimaced at me, knowing what I was thinking.

"Well, no, but it's more an excuse to have a party for everyone else. Boost morale, you know."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to help with that," I admitted.

"Well, his birthday isn't for a month. I just thought you might have an idea for a gift or a theme or something for him," Gemma coaxed. This still didn't really fit though- I was growing more and more suspicious of why Gemma had asked me here by the second.

"I'll have to give it some thought…." I said, looking between her and Luann, who was still smiling widely.

"Eliza," A voice suddenly said. I caught the flash of a satisfied smirk as Gemma stepped aside to reveal a familiar face that I hadn't been expecting to see- Fleetwood Janowitz. "It's good to see ya," He was exiting Cara Cara as he spoke. He came over and hugged me.

"Fleet," I said, a little off-pitch, "Hi." He let me go, smiling his easy smile.

"Uncle Lenny's ill in Stockton so I'm in town to check in on him, wait it out and see if he gets better," Fleet answered the question I was yet to ask. "Your Dad kinda encouraged me to come down here and get to know the locals." The local pornstars, obviously. I raised my eyebrows. Gemma had her best poker-face on, but Luann's eyes were sparkling with mischief. I put all the pieces together in my head and now understood this random meeting point at Cara Cara- it wasn't so random after all. I refrained from my rolling my eyes for now, but I did like Fleet so I smiled and nodded.

"I hope he gets well," I wished.

"Thanks. I'm gonna take off from here for now," He added, mainly to Gemma and Luann, the latter to whom he also said: "Thanks for letting me be a fly on that wall." He winked at me before he headed towards his bike.

"Well, I gotta go. I'll see you girls around," Luann said, heading back inside right after Fleet's engine faded into the distance. Gemma smirked and began to walk me back towards my car.

"Looks like he's gonna be in town for a while," She informed me lightly, as if there was no motive to this. Unfortunately, I saw through it. I pretended not to, though.

"Oh, that's… cool," I said, not able to really think of a better word. To be honest, boys were the last thing on my mind. I was still fixed on what'd happened at school today, what with everybody's comments about me and the club and their obvious derision. Even the Michael thing had faded to the background already.

"You know who he kinda reminds me of?" Gemma said casually as we reached the car door. I looked at her.

"Who?"

"A young Tig. Maybe it's the hair." I stared at Gemma, unable to stop my face from flushing. I wished I was better at hiding my true feelings from my step-mother, but I wasn't. I hadn't really noticed it before today, but Gemma was right. Aside from Fleet's eyes being dark, and the decades of difference in age, there was something reminiscent of Tig Trager in the younger biker… it went deeper than the dark curls on his head, too. The confident swagger, maybe… I shook my head, rearranging my face into a somewhat neutral expression.

"I guess I hadn't noticed," I lied, before climbing into my car and setting off for home.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza got to give Michael what for! And Fleet is back in town. What is Gemma trying to do here? And how about him looking a little like Tig, hm? ;)**


	18. Sweet Emotion

**Chapter Eighteen: Sweet Emotion**

 _ **You talk about things nobody cares  
You're wearing out things that nobody wears  
You're calling my name but I gotta make clear  
I can't say baby where I'll be in a year  
~ **_**Sweet Emotion – Aerosmith ~**

"I _really_ don't feel in the partying mood now," My Dad grumbled. It was late on a Friday night and he'd come in from god knew where, hardly able to walk and definitely unable to hold a grip. I wondered how he'd even gotten home until he was followed into the house by Tig, who gave me a rueful look, a shiner forming under his left eye. It was the night before Clay's birthday party and he'd figured out the so called surprise days earlier, and had done nothing but complain since.

"Sit down, Dad," I sighed, looking to get ice and first aid supplies. Clay sat at the head of the dining table, hissing as he tried to force his stiff and swollen fingers to flex. Tig walked to the fridge and grabbed us each a beer, setting them on the table as I sat down and began to get to work. Both men watched me.

"Gemma not home?" Clay surmised. Gemma had gone to mediate Jax and Wendy's latest fight a couple hours before.

"No, just me here," I replied as I cleaned up some cuts and scratches on Clay's face. Tig sipped his beer.

"Probably for the best she isn't here for this," He remarked, eyeing his president. I had to agree there. Whatever the hell had happened- a fight, obviously- had gone badly for SAMCRO. Now I came to think about it, that was probably what Wendy and Jax were fighting over. Wendy was good with the life, but it was natural she'd worry if Jax came home in half the bad shape that Clay had. Gemma would just be equal parts worried and angry if she saw Clay come off worse in a fight. I couldn't help but look over at Tig. He was Clay's right hand- as good as a bodyguard.

"It's only 'cause of Tig that I'm still alive," Clay told me, seeming to guess my thoughts. I looked up at my father and a little flash of fear shone through before I managed to hide it and glance away. But this seemed to just bother Clay even more because when I reached for the icepack he grabbed my wrist gently to stop me. "Eliza, look at me," he ordered. I did as I was told reluctantly. He looked quickly at Tig then at me. "I know Gemma has you on this whole, never show the world you're afraid. And you're great at that. But it's okay to ask questions, you know. It's okay to care about your old man." He smirked a little at the last part, encouragingly. I appreciated it, but I also felt a little silly. I didn't want Tig to think I was a scared little girl…. Not that I was anything but that to him anyway, but still…

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Dad," I told him honestly. His face relaxed and he let go of my wrist.

"I'm alright. Promise," He added playfully. I paused to sip the beer Tig had got me before I continued to treat his injuries.

"You were walking bad. I think you have broken ribs," I told him, not in the mood for teasing even though I knew Clay was just trying to lighten the mood.

"Nah," Clay heaved his broad shoulders in a shrug. "I'm alright. Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix." I knew it was bullshit but there was no point arguing. He sighed. "If anything, just means I _have_ to show my face at this damn party."

"A sane person would say that is the opposite of what this means." If nothing else Clay would need to rest 'til he started to heal up, but he had face to save, evidently. Tig met my eyes for a second and I could tell that he was actually thinking the same thing as me in that moment. I dropped my gaze fast, not wanting to be caught staring.

"Never said I was sane." We spoke only a little as I finished patching up Clay as best I could. I thought idly that maybe nursing would be my calling when I ended up pushing the thought aside. I wasn't squeamish but I definitely wasn't cut out for healing of any kind. Tig watched me distantly, though he did accept the ice pack I gave him for his eye, which was starting to swell. I was just packing away the first aid kit when the front door was unlocked again and Gemma entered, followed by Fleet. She took in the sight of myself, Clay and Tig at the table, then seemed to shrug it off.

"I don't even wanna know what happened to you," She declared to her husband, who looked relieved.

"How were things at Jax's?" Tig asked her, kissing her on the cheek in greeting as he stood up.

"Shitty." She replied. "He and Wendy have set a date." The two parts of her response were so oxymoronic that Clay actually looked to me for answers. I shrugged, equally bemused. Gemma seemed to catch our drift. "I love Wendy. She's a good match for Jax, and I think they could be really happy together- but they have shit to work through before they go making vows." Since Gemma had been the whole driving force behind this engagement in the first place, I was a little surprised to hear this. "I think Jax only decided today to piss me off."

"I think Jax knows better than to piss you off, Gem," Tig chuckled.

"The junkie is either too high to know her ass from her elbow or she's sober and asking him what things will be like if they had kiss. Too many extremes."

"This whole life is extremes," Clay said tiredly, "You worry too much. Jax is a big boy, he knows what he's doing."

"I doubt it," Gemma grumbled, but she bent down to kiss him in his seat at the table. There was a pause in which nobody seemed to know what to say.

"Where do you fit in to all this?" Tig fired at Fleet, who hadn't spoken yet. He was stood by the doorway, looking elegantly disinterested in the entire conversation. I also noticed he was unscathed, and yet he'd been doing business with the mother charter since he'd been in town so he must've been at whatever skirmish got the others hurt.

"I rode back with Jax, you know, to watch my back. Witnessed the whole spectacle."

"Front row seat," Tig looked like he didn't know if he was more amused or full of pity for the young biker. Close to, it was even more apparent that they sort of looked alike. One might think Tig was Fleet's father. I definitely hoped to hell that that wasn't somehow the case.

"Yeah… Well, didn't think Gemma should be around town late at night alone with all the shit that's gone on." I also didn't want to know what the shit was.

"Thanks, kid," Clay said appreciatively.

"Well, I've had enough of this day for sure. Goodnight," Gemma waved, making her exit and leaving me alone with the men. I felt Fleet looking at me so I cast my eyes around for anything else to look at than either he or Tig. I felt very confused, being at close quarters with both of them. Tig made me nervous beyond belief with his pale blue eyes and unshakeable confidence. Fleet had something of that same feeling about him, and yet being younger, more clearly attentive of me…

"We should get going," Tig spoke up, nodding to his brother from Chicago. He perked up.

"Yeah. See ya Clay… goodnight, Eliza," Fleet added to me.

"See ya Kitten," Tig waved to me, "Later, brother." He clapped Clay on the shoulder. My father and I watched the two of them leave, and listened for the sound of their bike engines to fade away. After a moment, Clay slowly heaved himself to his feet, clearly stifling the sounds of pain that he needed to emit. I went to his side to try and help him. I didn't expect Clay to say much to me other than bid me goodnight like everyone else had, and he was a few laboured steps towards the door when he paused and turned back to look at me as I hurried to finish tidying away the things I'd used.

"Eliza," He spoke, "I'm not gonna tell you not to go there. You're a smart kid, and I trust your judgement. But Fleet…. Yeah, he's a good kid, but he's still an outlaw. And he's gonna head home to Chicago eventually," He added warningly. I knew then what he was getting at- the 'don't get too attached' speech.

"Dad…" I understood what he was saying but that didn't mean I wanted to talk about it with my father.

"I know," Clay waved a hand at me. "Just… know, if you're getting into it, who you're getting into it with. Don't want another repeat of that Michael jackass." He left me on that note, heading for bed.

* * *

 _ **Piney's P.O.V.**_

 _Clay's birthday party was in full swing. Even though most of us were rough from our less than friendly meeting with the Mayans the night before, it was true that the party was spirit-lifting. I supposed that really, that'd been the point. By ten at night, most of the guys were well on their way to drunk, but I'd decided to have a tamer night, something more than rare for me. Shit had been crazy lately. What it did it was let me people-watch for once, look at our nearest and dearest more closely._

 _Clay was doing a good job of looking in one piece as long as he stayed in pretty much one place, guarded by a hawkish Gemma. Tig was alright other than a black eye and bruised knuckles. He already had a croweater tucked under each arm, giving them whatever shit they needed to hear for him to get laid, which wasn't much as he had a pretty solid stud reputation among the broads. Jax had brought his girl to the party. Wendy was okay for a junkie. Opie didn't have much time for her, but then again he'd picked a good girl in Donna and his best friend liking anything else was incomprehensible to him. Chibs and Juice were causing a ruckus by the pool table. Our newest patch was shy around girls, tended to stay away for the most part. Would take a few years of the life to weather him into being like the rest, maybe, or maybe he was just his own guy after all. Bobby looked like he was in the same boat as me, one dark eye on everyone else, the other on his beer. Hobart had already gone into the dorms with some barely legal already. Ope had gone home early after an earful from Donna about leaving her with the baby. I loved her like my own daughter but that didn't mean I didn't think Opie needed to take care of his shit before she turned into another Mary._

 _Right at the centre of things, the life and soul of the party, was Little One. Clay's girl, Eliza, with her impossible-to-miss red mane and what appeared to be her new friend, Fleetwood Janowitz, Lenny's nephew. The boy had actually been born in Charming. Lenny's sister had come back to town knocked up, wouldn't tell anyone who the father was, but her love of the band Fleetwood Mac had given her poor son his stupid name. He seemed a good boy to me. Loyal to the Reaper, smart for a new patch, and with his mop of dark curly hair and sharp features, he was annoyingly good looking. I had no trouble comprehending the appeal of him to seventeen year old Eliza. It was obvious. But apparently it wasn't to Jax, who kept casting them dirty looks as they danced and laughed and sang along to the music._

 _Eliza was a chip off the old block. She knew how to party, she lit up the room. Her mother used to be the same._

 _Ellen came along having run away from her cop dad and bitch mother to return home to Charming. Almost the same story as Gemma, except the two couldn't be more different. Ellen James had stolen hearts all through SAMCRO. She'd been a favourite croweater in her day. She did her round with John, me, Lenny, with most of us bar Otto, who'd always been faithful to Luann. Then something happened when she landed on Clay. He didn't love her the way he obviously loved Gemma, but for a bit, Clay seemed happy even though Ellen was a junkie like Wendy. For a bit, they both were, and then Ellen got pregnant. Eliza came along, they split up, Ellen moved away…. And the rest was history. Sadly, most people's memory didn't go back as far as mine. But watching Little One, carefree and fun-loving, at her Daddy's party did remind me of her mother._

 _I just hoped that, unlike her mother, Eliza wouldn't let the life lead her astray. Because even though her Dad and step-brother plotted and schemed, talked about how they'd protect her from shit, how maybe she'd just go to college and move on, I knew she was destined for Charming even if nobody else did. This wasn't my first time around, after all._

 _I never spoke to Eliza about her mother, or anyone. I let her be young, but I kept out an eye for her. She was a part of the future of our club, much as Jax was, and that future needed nurturing._

* * *

I was drunk. The night seemed to move in blocks. One minute I was wishing my father a happy birthday, then I was talking to Chibs about something, then I was laughing with Juice as we watched Bobby nearly pass out in a croweaters cleavage, and then Fleet and I were dancing like maniacs in the middle of the clubhouse. After all that, suddenly I was outside in the cold air, catching my breath, and Fleet's hand was on my waist.

"You're fun when you let loose," He told me, still laughing.

"You trying to say I'm boring when I don't?" The alcohol was making me confident and sassy than usual. Fleet chuckled at me.

"No, not at all. Actually, you're intriguing."

"Fancy word for a drunk boy," I teased.

"It's like everyone says," He told me, "It's like I think I told you before-" At least the less than smooth formulation of this sentence showed me I wasn't the only drunk one, anyway. "-Both of us are legacies. Kids of First 9. It's just you, me, Jax, Opie. You realise?"

"So?" I blinked up at him- he suddenly seemed very close and very tall- trying to see his point.

"Well, how come I spend all this time with you and I know you but then I don't really know you at all, Eliza? Every time we speak, I feel like you show me someone else." I frowned. I had no idea what he was talking about.

"That's silly. I'm just me," I informed Fleet.

"My point is," He continued. "We should be cut from the same cloth. And you know, I think we are. You look like a good girl, Eliza Morrow, but I don't think you are." I stared at him.

"I'm not?"

"Nah. You're a bad girl. And maybe, someday, if the stars align- we're gonna make sweet baby reapers." And with those words, Fleetwood Janowitz kissed me.

* * *

 **A/N: So was Clay right to warn Eliza? Do you think she knows full well what she's getting into? And how did you like Piney's observation? Let me know!**


	19. Bad Moon Rising

**Chapter Nineteen: Bad Moon Rising**

 _ **Don't go 'round tonight  
It's bound to take your life  
There's a bad moon on the rise**_

 **Bad Moon Rising – Creedence Clearwater Revival ~**

Fleet was never my _boyfriend_. We didn't go on dates, we didn't hang out all the time, to be honest we didn't really see much of each other at all, especially one on one. He was often busy with the club and when he wasn't, the others were still around, keeping hawkish eyes on me. But a few weeks passed and during them, there were a couple of times where he would sneak kisses with me. Maybe it was the fact they were secret that made it exciting for me, but I was in a pretty chirpy mood nonetheless. We never had time for it to go further than a kiss but so far, that was just fine with me and apparently, with him too. I guessed he got his jollies with the croweaters like everyone else, which was also fine by me.

At school, I was still virtually friendless. Michael Quinn didn't dare speak to me anymore, and I avoided everyone else. It was just easier to keep my head down and do my work and get the hell out of there at the end of every day. I told myself that it didn't matter; maybe I didn't have any school friends but outside of school I had my family, and the club, and Donna. I had plenty. I had to admit, though, that school had been a lot more enjoyable when I had someone to hang out with, even if that someone was just Dana, who turned out to stab me in the back.

On the weekends I still had my job at Lumpy's gym. It was there one Saturday when a fight broke out outside of the ring.

Lately, we'd been getting a few of Charming's less savoury citizens in. There wasn't much we could do to prevent paying customers from using the gym but it was kind of a strange venue for the Nords, a group of local Nazi trash, to pick for boxing when Lumpy himself was as Jewish as they came. I could tell the old boxer was uncomfortable with the presence of his new clientele but only because after we closed down he made off-hand remarks on it. When faced with Darby and his crew he conducted himself with the utmost dignity, never wavering.

But that particular weekend, a few of the guys from Tacoma had come down, and tonight was Fight Night at the clubhouse. The luminous smile of Herman Kozik lit up the place when he strolled into Lumpy's gym. He had originally been in SAMCRO before he transferred and kicked the junk. He was a Charming native and he greeted the old man like an old friend. Soon enough Kozik was having a friendly sparring, not wearing his kutte, but that apparently made no difference to Ernest Darby and the mountain troll he'd brought with him into Lumpy's.

I was cleaning down the area which guys tended to use for warm up, and I spotted the two Nords enter and the expression on their faces when they clearly recognised Kozik. My mouth went dry and I dropped the mop I was holding, panicking, wondering whether I should call Clay or just go and get Lumpy or what. Kozik hadn't even seen them but Darby and his crony were making their way towards the ring. At the same time, Kozik's sparring partner had seen them and his eyes widened, backing away from the obvious hostility. From then, there was only about four seconds in which all I had left to do was call out, "Koz!" He turned at the sound of my voice, looking confused, and only then did he see Darby, in time to duck the punch flying his way.

I had no idea what this beef was about. As far as I knew, although things weren't exactly friendly with the Nords, things had settled lately. But then again, I had made a special point recently of not listening out for who the flavour of the week was in terms of enemies. No words were exchanged as the fist-fight commenced, Kozik putting in a good fight even though he was outnumbered. The other patrons of the gym were hurriedly leaving. Even if for the most part, Charming favoured the Sons, that didn't mean anyone wanted to get in the middle of a spat between the Sons of Anarchy and the Nords. I didn't blame them, but I was glued to the spot. I watched as Kozik was dragged over the ropes around the edge of the ring, and then as he knocked Darby over. In my life up until that point, I'd never seen such an aggressive display of violence right before my eyes. Sirens were coming from the distance now, the gym had emptied out completely, and I saw Lumpy appear. I blinked and the guy Darby brought with him went down as Lumpy somehow mustered, out of nowhere, one of his legendary KO punches. The guy hit the deck and didn't get back up or move, knocked out cold, but Kozik and Darby were still brawling. Kozik was younger and fitter than Darby though, and that should've been a good thing. But, as the sirens wailed louder as they got closer, I suddenly realised the sorry state of Darby's face, and how this could play off. Kozik coming out better in this fight- Kozik might face a worse punishment for that.

"KOZIK! STOP! LEAVE HIM!" I heard myself scream, somehow coming closer in to the fight that Lumpy was failing to break up. "KOZ! THE COPS ARE COMING!" Somehow, the blonde Tacoma biker heard me through the fight and I saw his face, bloodied, whip towards the door.

"You done, motherfucker?" He spat at Darby, whom he had in a stranglehold as he repeatedly punched him.

"Fuck you!"

"Koz!" I yelled again. The sirens had cut off right outside the gym at this point.

"LET UP!" Kozik commanded Darby, who was turning purple. It looked like he was going to resist but then apparently his need for oxygen overcame him because he choked out an angry 'yes'. Kozik let him go and the two men stepped away from one another, Lumpy between them, nursing various injuries, just as Hale burst through the door, his eyes travelling over the scene. Me, stood there in dismay, Lumpy with his hands stretched out between the two men, both of whom looked battered, the rest of the gym emptied with haste, equipment lying about everywhere.

"We had reports of a disturbance… some kind of fight," Hale eyed the two men with equal dislike.

"There's no disturbance here," Kozik said immediately, glaring at Darby. "No crime. Right?"

"Just a little sparring got a little out of hand," Lumpy contributed. Hale looked to me.

"Yeah… just a little out of hand," I repeated somewhat shakily, but convincingly enough. But then Hale's eyes fell on Darby's friend, who was half-concealed by the ring on his spot passed out on the floor.

"You sure?" He didn't look like he believed us at all, and I couldn't blame him. "Would someone care to explain why this man here is unconscious?"

"Caught in the crossfire," Kozik answered immediately.

"He was trying to referee," I heard myself offer, though I hadn't planned to say anything at all. The couple of cops who'd accompanied Hale looked as unconvinced as the man himself. I suddenly remembered his recent promotion to Deputy Chief. The role certainly suited him. I understood all the better now why the club much preferred it when Unser responded to calls first. He'd sign off on all of this to keep things quiet even though he knew it was bullshit, but Hale was bound to dig unless Darby stuck with the admittedly flimsy story.

"That's bullshit. The old Jew took Bruce out. Right after Blondie decided to jump me." Apparently, Darby was _not_ going to stick to the story. And not only that, he was going to somehow pin the whole thing on Kozik. Kozik, Lumpy and I all exchanged a very brief look.

"That's not how it went down," Kozik said through gritted teeth. Hale looked at him expectantly and Kozik sighed. "I was trying to avoid this shit. But one thing I'm not allowing is for Lumpy to take the blame for my hit. I knocked that asshole out. Right after Darby came out from behind me."

"No, Herman, I-" Lumpy began to argue, but I walked over beside the old man, my courage coming from a place I didn't know existed.

"It's okay," I told him. "Darby and the other guy came charging over to the ring. Kozik wasn't even looking. Lumpy came over to try and stop it escalating but Kozik got the hit in on him," I indicated the unconscious man. Hale looked pissed off.

"Alright. Conflicting stories here, but I have no choice. Ernest Darby, you're under arrest for assault and public misconduct..." One of the other cops began to cuff the angry looking racist. "Same for you, Herman Kozik. You have the right to remain silent…" Hale read them both their rights as he personally handcuffed Kozik, who was usually easy going but right then looked ready to spit flames.

"Call Clay!" Kozik called as he was led outside to be taken down to the station by the cops. I nodded even though he could no longer see me, but Hale remained in the gym with myself and Lumpy.

"You two aren't under arrest but I will need you to come down to the station to take statements." I glanced at Lumpy. "Eliza, as a minor, you'll need an appropriate adult present." I sighed.

"I have to call my Dad anyway," I scowled at Hale. He nodded stonily.

"Alright. Lumpy…?"

"I'll follow you down there," The old boxer said resignedly. "God knows at my age I shouldn't be driving..." But he touched my arm as he passed me, and I knew he was going to stick to Kozik's story. Lumpy had always been a friend of the Sons and Darby was anything but a friend to the Holocaust survivor. Chances were, Kozik's story would stick easily given Darby's history, which made me admire Kozik's quick thinking. Hale raised his eyebrows when we were left alone.

"You can ride with me," He said.

* * *

' _ **I was cleaning up as I have a part time job at Lumpy's Gym. Darby and his accomplice entered the gym and immediately approached Mr Kozik, who was sparring in the ring, from behind. I could see from their postures that they were aggressive, though Mr Kozik had done nothing I saw to merit it. Everyone in the gym started to scatter just as Mr Kozik turned around and saw Darby, who threw the first punch. Mr Kozik began to fight back as Mr Darby and his friend beat him but it was two against one. At that point Mr Feldstein tried to break the fight up and Mr Darby's accomplice tried to attack Mr Feldstein, so Mr Kozik reacted and knocked the other man out. Mr Darby continued his attack but the cops arrived and Mr Feldstein managed to separate them at last and attempted to cool the situation down.'**_

I re-read my statement. Hale looked even more pissed off than earlier as I did so. "If that's correct to the best of your memory, please sign," He said. Somehow, I kept a completely straight face as I did just that, signing and then printing 'Eliza Morrow' on the indicated lines. Next the pen passed to Clay, who had been less than pleased at the events at the gym and in particular, that I had been there to witness it. I thought it was pretty unfair of my Dad to blame Kozik for any of this, but it was hard to talk to Clay when he was in one of his moods. The last signature on it was from Rosen, the lawyer who'd overseen this. As Hale filed the statement away, his mouth a thin line, I couldn't help but think that he was probably thinking the same thing as me. Officially, on paper, I had just lied to the police for the first time to protect a member of the club. And, I honestly doubted it'd be the last time either. But dammit, I was just _there._ I didn't earn my involvement in this.

"That everything?" Clay snapped at Hale, who to his credit didn't seem to be intimidated by my father.

"Yeah that's everything," Hale said unenthusiastically.

"Come on." Clay snapped at me. It seemed like he was pissed with me, too.

"Okay, Dad," I said gloomily. I hoped that when we got home, Gemma would be there to help lighten whatever load my father was about to place on me because I couldn't deal with Clay lashing out at me this way. None of this was my fault.

"Hey, now," Hale suddenly said. Both Clay and I turned around. Rosen had already scurried away with an excuse, leaving us two alone with the cop. He was staring Clay down, a frown on his face.

"What?" Clay snapped.

"She just happened to be there, right?" Hale said. "And she's doing what you wanted."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clay snarled. Hale still held his ground.

"We both know what that means." So did I. It meant I was lying to the cops, exactly like Clay would expect me to do in this situation to protect Kozik.

"You keep your nose out of our business," Clay growled, unable to make a more explicit threat to a cop without being arrested himself. He grabbed my wrist. "C'mon Eliza." And with that I was being dragged out of the cop station by my father, watched by a disapproving Hale. Once we got outside he marched me over to his bike. "We'll go get your car from Lumpy's. Then you follow me to the clubhouse." Shit. I was hoping I'd be able to just go home, but apparently not. It was really hard to be given orders like this by my Dad, though. He'd never been very authoritarian with me, I guess he didn't need to be.

* * *

So I climbed off Clay's bike at Lumpy's and got in my car, following him to TM. I could tell by the speed he was going that he was pissed and my dismay grew. _None of this was my fault_. I'd tried to help Kozik, backed up his story. Clay led me into the clubhouse when we arrived there but promptly abandoned me by the bar as he yelled at all the guys to come into the chapel.

So I sat out there, waiting for whatever was going to come next. Surprisingly, they weren't inside all that long- I guessed the Nords weren't that big of a problem for SAMCRO to solve. Jax, Opie, Tig and Bobby all flooded directly out of the clubhouse, muttering something about a 'friendly visit' to The Hairy Dog. Fleet, Hobart and Happy, who was also down from Tacoma, were heading to go and bail out Kozik. This left only Clay, Chibs and Juice behind.

"Dad," I appealed, standing up from the bar stool I'd been on to try and get his attention.

"Later," He snapped at me as he marched out of the clubhouse, leaving me stood there feeling stupid and, embarrassingly, on the verge of tears. What had I done wrong? I stood on the spot, forcing myself not to actually cry. Chibs came over while Juice just stood looking awkward.

"Don' worry about him, lass," The Scotsman said gently, "He's just pissed off that Darby's stirring shit up and ye were there ter see it." But I shook my head.

"It's like he's angry at me for… I don't know. I thought I was doing the right thing, backing up Kozik…"

"Ye were," Chibs insisted, rubbing my arm comfortingly. "Ye did perfectly, darling. We're all proud of ye." I looked up at him, nodding slowly. The rest of the guys certainly didn't seem to be pissed, so maybe he was right. Unless Clay was mad about something else. Maybe about Fleet…

"Thanks Chibs," I said sincerely, just as the clubhouse door opened and Donna stepped in, carrying the car seat with baby Ellie in. She looked apologetically between the two men and I.

"Sorry, I was hoping to catch Opie," She told us.

"Ye just missed him, but he should be back soon darling," Chibs said. He squeezed me round the shoulders. "Come on Juicy. Back ter the garage," He grabbed his mechanics shirt which was hanging over the back of a nearby chair. Juice called out a goodbye as he left with the Scotsman, leaving me alone with Donna and the baby. She raised her eyebrows at me. It took me a minute to remember that I had a fib to maintain- that I had a crush on Chibs.

"Oh, it's not like that," I told her dismissively.

"What's going on, anyway?" She asked, coming over and setting the car seat on the bar top so I could see the snoozing baby. I was usually careful with what I told Donna because she was always on shaky ground when it came to her opinion on the club, but this time I told the truth, or at least part of it:

"Kozik got into a scrap at Lumpy's Gym. It wasn't his fault, but we had to talk to the cops. And now my Dad is being an ass..." I trailed off.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Eliza. I'm sure he'll get over it. My Dad is an ass sometimes too, even now…" Donna had told me before that her parents didn't exactly approve of Opie, though they'd accepted now that he was Donna's choice.

"I'll get over it," I shrugged away my own upset. Donna nodded, though she looked a little worried for me. "I promise," I added, forcing a smile. She smiled back, though I could tell she was humouring me rather than really believing I was over it.

"Okay," She said, "But you know, if you don't… I can always use some company while Opie's out doing whatever and Ellie's asleep..." She offered.

"Thanks Donna," My smile momentarily became real. I was truly grateful to Donna Winston. Despite the fact she was a few years older than me, she never treated me like a little kid. She treated me like a real friend and I really appreciated that, since I had so few of them, especially whom weren't technically members of the club.

"So come on. I've got time. Let's shoot some pool?" She gestured to the table. I smiled once more. I knew I couldn't leave the clubhouse until Clay or Gemma's say-so now, so I'd be glad for someone to hang out with while the guys were gone.

"You're on," I agreed, trying to push the matter of my father's inexplicable anger to the back of my mind for now.

* * *

 **A/N: So there's no name for what Fleet and Eliza's 'thing' is, but at least she has Donna looking out for her. But what is Clay's problem?**


	20. Spook

**Chapter Twenty: Spook**

 _ **I need the violence on the radio  
I need a murder sound just to let me know  
There's no-one talking to me, but I'm talking back  
**_ _ **And every word's a ghost I keep looking at**_

 __ **Spook – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club -**

Dinner was tense that night at home with Gemma as we waited for Clay to come back. I hadn't told her how my father had spoken to me earlier but she could knew something was wrong in the way Gemma always knew everything. When he finally came in through the door mid-way through our meal, he had Tig and Fleet in tow. He scowled in my direction before taking his seat at the head of the table. Gemma got up to set two extra places for the other two. Tig sat beside Gemma on the opposite side, while Fleet took a seat beside me. I knew immediately that that was another mistake as Clay glared. Not a single word had been spoken thus far, until Tig broke the silence:

"Thanks for the dinner, Gem. Shoulda let you know we were coming…" He said politely, his blue eyes just barely flickering in the direction of his President.

"You know my policy, Tigger. The more the merrier," Gemma flashed a smile but I could tell it was fake. "Kozik out okay?" She added, addressing her husband.

"Yeah," Clay grunted.

"Did Darby-?" I began to say, but he cut me off:

"-Don't worry about Darby. Eat your carrots." Clay said this so bluntly, so coldly, that I went from dismayed and upset to angry faster than a speeding bullet. I somehow retained control as I calmly put my knife and fork down and folded my arms, turning my insolent gaze on my father fully.

"No," I refused quietly.

"Eliza," Gemma said my name in a warning tone but in that moment I didn't give a shit if this was a bad idea. Clay also rested his cutlery and moved his angry grey gaze to me.

"What did you just say to me?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"I want to know what happened with Darby. I want to know whether he got charged or of Kozik is in any trouble."

"It's not for you to worry about," Clay snarled.

"Well apparently it was for me to _lie_ about."

"Eliza." Gemma's voice was firmer this time but I still completely ignored her. I could feel Tig and Fleet's gazes both moving between me and Clay.

"You shouldn't have even been there. You should've got the hell out of there the second you saw Darby enter." My eyebrows rose very quickly at that one.

"I _work_ there, Dad. Every Saturday and every other Sunday practically since I first arrived in Charming," I reminded him stonily.

"When trouble shows it's face you get the hell out of those situations, Eliza."

"It happened a bit fucking fast for me to run anywhere. And I _helped_ Kozik. I did everything you guys have ever told me to do since I first came to town. I supported the club, the family. And I didn't fuck up or say anything out of place!" Try as I might to keep it under control, my voice rose to be a little shrill by the end of my speech. "The next thing I know you're dragging me out of the cop station like I'm the one who got themselves put behind bars!"

"And now Darby and his crew know damn well just who you are and that you could be a threat to them! Don't you realise that this puts a potential target on your back?" Clay's voice was rising in volume too now as he glared at me.

"Clay," This time it was my father that Gemma was appealing too but like his daughter before him, Clay totally ignored her.

"Darby and his crew already know who I am! Everybody in this town does, Dad! I've had a target on my back since the day you hooked up with my Mom!"

"That's bullshit. Your mother moved you away from here-"

"And I moved back!"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have!" That was like a massive slap to the face. There seemed to be a collective intake of breath around the table and nobody was eating anymore. I could feel the heat rising in my face. There was a whole bunch of things running through my head which I knew I couldn't actually say, especially not in front of Gemma, Tig and Fleet; that I should never have been raised anywhere else, especially not by a junkie mother who couldn't take care of me. Maybe even that Clay had chosen this life for himself and therefore me. Certainly, that I couldn't be blamed for the fact that enemies knew who I was. I swallowed so that I wouldn't cry angry tears before I retorted:

"If that's the way you want it, _Dad_." I stood up and ran out of the room. More than one voice called my name but I ignored them as I slammed my bedroom door behind me, the tears finally escaping my eyes, and began to pack.

I'd never been made to feel unwelcome in this house, or in Charming, before. And deep down I understood that Clay wasn't really angry with me; he was angry that I could be endangered because of him. But for all intents and purposes, that was too little, too late. I was in this now. I was part of this life as much as he or anyone else was and there was no escaping that. My overactive teenage hormones didn't help, and neither did the fact that I'd been forced to suppress my true emotions my whole life, because everything was spilling out into this one moment. Today had begun a normal day and now, out of nowhere, I'd packed a bag and I was walking back out of my room, heading for the door. I only got to the end of the hallway when I ran into Gemma.

"Eliza, honey, no," She protested, putting her hands on my shoulders, "Don't be silly, you know he didn't mean that, where d'you think you're going..." The questions were relentless as I shook her off. I knew Gemma was capable enough of stopping me but somehow she didn't. Her attempts were weak. The angry, upset part of me thought maybe she'd hoped I'd leave all along. Neither of them wanted me here after all… but as I passed the dining room again, Gemma behind me still trying to ask me not to leave, I saw her throw a dirty look at Clay, who hadn't moved from the table, and the rational part of my mind knew that she was trying to teach him a lesson via me.

"Kitten," Tig was stood near the door and beside him, Fleet. Seeing those two stood together, two different generations with a vague similarity in looks was even more baffling to me.

"Eliza," The younger biker reiterated with my name.

"Oh ignore her. She's being a drama queen, she ain't going anywhere." And even though my legs were like lead and I wanted to stop and turn back and just go to my room and cry like a normal kid would, I suddenly just couldn't face my father humiliating me in front of my crush and my… whatever the hell Fleet was to me, on top of the rest of the day.

"Fuck you, Clay," I snapped at him before I made it to the door, slammed it behind me, and got behind the wheel of my car.

* * *

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." I'd driven around and around Charming for the past two hours, trying to calm down enough to go home and face the music but in the end I'd decided I was too pissed off to do it. I would've sat still somewhere and given myself time to think but I knew if I sat still too long in town one of the Sons would find me, so I made the decision to drive out of town. I had enough money for a motel somewhere until the morning and it was starting to get late out. However, I only made it to just the other side of the 'Welcome to Charming' sign before I ran out of gas. In my anger and confusion at what'd happened that day, I'd failed to notice I was running on wisps and now my tank was empty, thanks to me driving around so many times. It felt like the town was mocking me and my argument with Clay, choosing to trap me just on the boundary of it. Not able to leave, not able to go back.

I got out of my useless vehicle and walked around to lean against the trunk of the car, looking up at the stupid sign.  
"I suppose it's only a few months 'til college. Then I can get out of here permanently," I told the town. I hadn't even begun to think about applying for colleges yet even though at school, everyone else in my class was doing just that. "Jax says that me and him never had a chance of ending up anywhere else but here. I told him everyone had a choice but now I guess you've done this to prove me wrong. Now I'm talking to a sign like a crazy person."

My phone began to ring for the umpteenth time since I'd stormed out. Glancing at the name, I saw it was Gemma trying to call me again. I ignored the call and looked back at the sign. "All I have to do now is sit here. One of the guys will find me even if Clay and Gemma don't tell Unser. You know, he's acting like it's my fault. But where could I have run to? It's not even the first time, really. Remember when the Mayans were on my tail when I was on a date with Michael? And anyway how come Clay gets to decide what's okay for me and what isn't? Like it's fine for me to dress up his wounds and hear shit I don't want to hear. And it's fine to see the guys all have sex right in front of me with croweaters. But witnessing a fight, oh no, a step too far? It's not like I didn't see way worse shit before I even came to Charming."

I sighed to myself as I finished my rant at the town. The only question yet was, now what? Wait for the guys to find me, like I knew they eventually would? Give up and start walking home? I kicked one of my back tyres angrily. I wasn't ready for either of those two options.

Before I knew I'd made a decision, I was walking, with my purse in hand, back into the town. But it wasn't home I was headed for.

* * *

There was a dive bar right on the fringes of Charming which happened to be the first place I came across. It was called Rose's and I'd never been in, but I'd heard of it from kids at school as a place they were all too scared to go to. When I entered and it was so dark and dingy, it's clientele inebriated and dodgy-looking, I could see why. However, I spent most of my time around guys who were a lot more dangerous than this. And when the barman asked for my ID and I flashed him the handle of my knife to show I could handle myself, I got served. And I got served again, and again. And pretty soon, I was drunk.

Pretty soon, not so much drunk as I was totally smashed. I was sat at the bar, whiskey in hand, listening to the quiet music on the old jukebox in the corner, when I found myself talking to people. Usually kind of shy or at least quiet, the alcohol had loosened my tongue, though thankfully not about anything important. No, just about me. How I'd had a shitty rough life, had a dead mother, no friends, and just needed a goddamn break. I was regaled with the townspeoples responses, their own sad stories, and soon enough the music got cranked up a little louder and the dive became a little more lively. Most of the people in there were old men now, but of the harmless kind. One man, probably in his late thirties, did get a little bold when he pinched my pass but when I happily informed him it wouldn't be the first time I cut someone's dick off he backed off and the other people in the bar took my side. Weirdly enough, the grimy little dump had become kind of inviting, welcoming and warm to me, and the barman didn't seem so pissy that I'd sauntered in right through his door, all seventeen underage years of me.

I'd figured out, in short, how to do something I'd never been able to do properly; how to let loose. And, blissfully, nobody had managed to track me down the whole time. Nobody I knew would suspect where the hell I was. They might've already found my car. Maybe they were even worried. But, as far as I was concerned, in my drunk state, it would serve Clay right to think that I was in trouble for a while.

Sadly, though, all good things must come to an end. Rose's had to shut eventually. A few people offered to call me cabs but I cheerfully informed them I already had a ride. I waited 'til the other patrons were well and truly gone before I made the call though. It had been nice to find the one pocket of people in Charming who had no idea I was Clay Morrow's daughter and I'd decided that I wanted to keep it that way, at least for now. I leaned against the wall outside the bar, deciding which number to call. Dozens of missed calls, mostly from Gemma, Clay and Jax. A couple from Tig, even a few of the others. But finally, I settled on the number of the only person I thought might actually give me a pass at this late stage.

Fleetwood Janowitz picked up the phone on the first ring and I grinned when he sounded relaxed.  
"I thought I might hear from you eventually," He drawled down the phone.

"Well you must have psychic powers or something," I giggled down the line.

"You drunk, Morrow?" He fired at me, sounding amused.

"Very," I responded.

"Well, at least I know you aren't driving. Bobby found your car, had it towed back. Your Dad is super pissed off at you, by the way. You're grounded for life after this." I just laughed. I was too drunk to give a damn about any of that.

"Being grounded can wait. Are you coming to get me, or what?" I asked cheekily. Now it was Fleet's turn to laugh.

"Alright. Where are you?" I gave him the address and some rough directions. "Sit tight and wait for me. I won't be long." Once he hung up I stood there, still drunk, regretting nothing as I awaited the familiar sound of a Harley-Davidson engine to fill my ears.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza's day went from bad to worse and now she's got a real conflict with Clay. Is his concern really fatherly or does he honestly regret having her move to Charming? And what do you think will happen when Fleet arrives to collect her?**


	21. Teenage Dream

**Chapter Twenty One: Teenage Dream**

 ** _The curfew comes at the crack of night  
The sad old wino aches to dissipate the fright  
The jet jump jiver speeds past his machine  
Whatever happened to the teenage dream?_**

 ** _~_ Teenage Dream – T-Rex ~**

"Okay, drinky. Time to get you home," Fleet's dark eyes sparkled as he got off his bike to help me over to it.

"No, not home," I protested. I was definitely still too shit-faced to be making good decisions.

"Eliza..." He sighed deeply.

"If I wanted to go home to get my ass kicked I would've just called my Dad or Gemma," I slurred. Fleet seemed to consider this for a minute as he guided me over to his bike with his hand on my back.

"Alright," He sighed, "I can bring you to the clubhouse, but if anyone asks it wasn't my idea." I could tell this was the best I was gonna get so I just nodded in agreement. He took the helmet off his head to fasten it on mine before helping me onto the back of his bike. He then swung his leg over in front of me and took my hands, pulling my arms around his mid-section. "Hold on _tight,_ okay? And stay awake." I wasn't used to him being so commanding of me but I agreed.

"Tight and awake," I agreed, then giggled a little at how that sounded. Fleet fired up the engine and before I knew it, we were speeding off through Charming. I had to keep my eyes shut for most of the journey though because the speed we travelled at was nauseating.

When we arrived, Fleet helped me get the helmet off again and led me inside. Thankfully the clubhouse was long empty, fight night having been cancelled due to the events of that day, so nobody saw us as he led me to the dorm room he was staying in. Even though I was drunk I knew I still had to be careful for how this would look; Happy and Kozik were both also staying here and it wouldn't be unusual if Jax was too, if he and Wendy were on the outs. Fleet ducked out of his room for a minute and returned with a glass of water for me, which he set on the side. I sat on the bed and looked around. After a moment he sat beside me too.

"Have to admit, when I imagined getting you back here with me it wasn't quite like this," He joked. Normally a comment like that would make me blush but thanks to the alcohol, it didn't.

"Me neither," I said instead. Because if I was honest, I _had_ thought about it. I thought about it every time he stole a sneaky kiss from me. For the first time ever, though, I thought I saw Fleetwood Janowitz look surprised.

"You would… I mean..."

"I dunno." And it suddenly occurred to me how that might have sounded. "Not tonight..." I couldn't help that the last two words came out nervous. I was too drunk to even consider that. But even though I trusted Fleet, that didn't mean he wouldn't take advantage of me anyway. He looked at me then and his expression changed, softened.

"Not tonight," He agreed and I sighed with relief. I didn't do a good job of disguising that either. "I have every intention of fucking you, Eliza, but I'm gonna do it when you're sober and when you're ready… and only if you want it. I'm an asshole but not that kind of asshole." I looked down, feeling guilty now.

"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling like a foolish little girl in front of him for the second time that day. He stroked back some of my hair from my face.

"Don't be," Fleet responded, uncharacteristically gently. "You've had a fuckin' rough day. You should get some sleep. I'll hit the floor," He told me.

"You don't have to hit the floor," I protested as I fumbled for the water he'd put on the bedside table for me. "There's space here. We just can't…" He knew what I meant. Fleet hesitated.

"You sure?" He checked. "I'm a little young for back problems."

"Whatever," I shrugged. I kicked off my shoes and my jeans, intending to keep my t-shirt on. Fleet ripped his eyes off my legs. "Like you haven't seen legs on a girl before," I mumbled.

"I said I won't take advantage, you just have to step it up a notch and make it hard on me, right?" He teased as he kicked his own shoes off. He located a pair of sweats and yanked those on instead of his jeans and removed his kutte and then t-shirt. My phone rang again and I sighed as I drunkely fumbled for it, looking at the screen. It was Clay again. I held the device out so that Fleet could read it too. "You should call him back, let him know you're safe."

"Yeah, good idea. Hi Dad, I'm fine I just went out and got trashed and now I'm back at the clubhouse about to get into bed with Fleet. Don't worry!" I mocked sarcastically. Fleet laughed.

"Okay, fine," He relented. "You wanna let him sweat, be my guest. Maybe it'll be good for him." He threw back the covers and climbed into the bed, raising an eyebrow at me. "You coming?" I hesitated nervously for a second before I slid into bed beside him, keeping a safe distance between us. My head was still spinning at first but after a few minutes of silence in the dark, I felt a little less shitfaced. Only then did Fleet speak, like he knew I was more lucid then. "I was thinking about transferring," He said quietly.

"To SAMCRO?" I clarified.

"Yeah… I like it here. Feels more like home," He added.

"You spoken to Clay about it?"

"Yeah… says it depends," Fleet responded. I frowned into the darkness, trying to imagine why Clay wouldn't want Fleet in his charter when he'd already proven his loyalty by hanging around here for so long, learning about life in Charming, helping them out wherever he could.

"Depends on what?" I questioned sleepily.

"A few things," Came the cryptic response. I suddenly realised that this was probably the most personal conversation I'd ever had with Fleet. He was confident and slick but he never really said much about himself, his opinions, what he wanted from his life. "But I'm really not sure I wanna go back to Chicago."

"Chicago is a lot more fun a place to live than Charming," I pointed out. "Here's… a small town. You put down roots here, you stop having any kind of..." I tried to figure out the word. The one I wanted was 'anonymity' but my drunk, tired mind didn't land on it.

"I know," Fleet agreed, almost lamented, and I couldn't think of anything else to say. I must've fallen asleep not long after that.

* * *

"...You can kiss your car goodbye for the next month," This was just one in a long list of punishments Clay had in store for me, also including extra chores, being grounded, and no clubhouse parties, which somehow he and Gemma counted separately from being grounded. "And I already told Lumpy you quit your job, so you can forget that too."

I don't think I'd ever been berated like that in my life. My Mom simply hadn't cared where I went or what I did, not that I had much of a life back then anyway. Clay was usually pretty liberal, trusting my judgement and easily convinced to allow me to do things. But apparently my disappearing act had not gone down well. As much as I wanted to, I wisely decided not to point out that Clay basically told me he didn't want me here. Hindsight and a hangover had informed me that wasn't the case; he'd garbled his words and merely worried about me being so close to the club. Still, I was biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood as I sat silently, letting him rant and rave. In fact, I'd been quiet so long that Clay actually stopped and squinted down at me.

"You got nothing to say for yourself?" He asked finally. I blinked up at him blearily. I'd only gotten home half an hour before, somehow managing to slip out of the clubhouse undetected and having to walk across town to get home without my car, because Bobby had given the keys back to Clay. Since then I'd been sat at the table listening to Clay yell while Gemma watched in the background with her arms folded.

"No," I replied. "Are you done? I'm going to bed." I stood up and walked past both of my parents, heading up to my bedroom and shutting and locking the door behind me. I was glad I'd installed the lock now- I'd done it after the time Tig slept outside on the floor to guard me from Kyle. I crawled into bed and was indeed asleep again almost immediately- I'd found it hard to sleep properly with Fleet beside me, never having shared a bed with a guy in my life, though true to his word he didn't so much as touch me.

* * *

 _ **Gemma's P.O.V.**_

" _I have no idea what's gotten into her," Clay was fuming. I'd let him parent Eliza this time however he saw fit, but privately I knew I wasn't the only one wondering the same thing about him. He'd gotten a little military with the poor girl overnight, all because she witnessed the fight between Darby and Kozik. She'd behaved perfectly, smoothing things over with the cops and proving her strength, but Clay had taken his concern for his daughter and twisted it into rage and discipline. It was the only way he knew how to be. He seemed to know I wasn't exactly on his wavelength, though. He turned his glare on me. "What? Are you telling me I'm wrong?" I sighed._

" _I don't think you're wrong for punishing her for her vanishing act last night," I began._

" _-And the fact she came stumbling in this morning, with no answer to where the fuck she's been, clearly hungover-"_

" _That too," I agreed warily._

" _Then_ what _?"_

" _She's acting out. It's what teenagers do."_

" _Not Eliza." And there was the root of the problem._

" _Not even after her father came down incredibly hard on her over something that was not her fault?"_

" _Look, you don't get to tell me what's right or wrong when it concerns my daughter-" Clay was getting all puffed up like a big fish again so I raised my hands, trying to soothe him._

" _I'm not telling you what to do. You're doing things the only way you know how, baby, I get that. I just don't think that you can discipline your daughter the same way you discipline the club." Finally, Clay stopped pacing and gritting his teeth and looked over at me properly, and I knew what I'd said had gone into his head, even if he didn't like what he was hearing._

" _Shit's all on it's head. Charming can be a dangerous place for her right now. I don't want her out of our sight," He admitted finally. I knew what it cost him, to admit that the newest beef with the Nords was getting out of control. "And Darby knows who she is now. She has a target on her back, Gemma."_

" _I know," I replied. "But Eliza, she's smart. You know she is. Just if you try to hold her too tight, you'll only push her further away." Clay looked like he was considering this nugget of truth for a minute._

" _Maybe further away is where we should be aiming for," He said grimly, finally._

* * *

A few days had passed but I was still grounded. Clay had refused to back down even on me having access to my car, so Gemma had been dropping me off to school and various Sons had picked me up everyday so far. I was stood alone outside the gate waiting for my ride on the fourth school day in a row being sans car when Chibs was the one who pulled up, his bike easily recognisable by the new addition of a St Andrews cross sewn onto the seat. The previous day I'd had Opie and he'd seemed pissed off about something, so I was relieved to see a more cheerful face. The Scotsman grinned at me.

"Yer chariot awaits, lassie," He said. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Thanks, Chibby," I responded, climbing on- and then we were away. My day at school had been the same as every other day. Nobody really spoke to me anymore, so I'd shuffled from class to class, eaten lunch alone and spent study hall sketching aimlessly. School, if I was honest, was getting pretty depressing. I was lonely there, an aching, crippling feeling that gnawed away at me all day every day. But, I figured it was too late for me to start trying to make friends now. It'd seem fake or forced, and besides, everybody was off to college in a few months and I'd never see them again anyway. If you managed to leave Charming you didn't come back, that was for sure. I let the bike ride sweep all of those troubles away though, just like I did on every journey home from school, back to where my real life was. Only today, instead of being taken to the clubhouse to wait for Gemma to finish work and take me home, Chibs took a different turning. I couldn't ask where we were going but it soon became clear anyway as we pulled up to the Cara Cara studio.

When Chibs parked and we were off the bike, he didn't give me time to ask the questions before he was answering them:  
"Don' worry, love. Gemma's here, she needed ter see Luann so she told me to bring ye here."

I'd never actually been inside the studio before, but I wasn't surprised to see the compromising positions the pornstars were in as I headed over to Luann in the directors chair- I saw worse sights in the clubhouse on a weekly basis. Gemma was out of sight somewhere, but Luann grinned when she saw me and yelled 'cut'.

"Hey honey, it's good to see you," The porn queen smiled warmly, her eyes scanning over me. "And you're finally filling out a little. You have a nice figure…" I cringed somewhat uncomfortably and glanced at Chibs beside me. Luann got the picture. "Gemma just got a call, she took it in the office. How was school?"

"Great," I lied, but I was saved from any more awkward small talk by Gemma's reappearance.

"Hey," She greeted me, "I'm glad you're here. Thanks, Chibs."

"Nae bother," Chibs shrugged, removing his sunglasses to turn and survey the set where the pornstars were waiting for Luann to call 'action' on them again. "I can think o' worse ways ter spend a Thursday afternoon myself."

"You old perv," Gemma chastised good naturedly. "We'll get going then." I barely had time to say goodbye to Luann before Gemma was frogmarching me out the door with a mission clearly in mind. "We got a bunch of brochures through the door today," My step-mother informed me as we headed across the parking lot to where her SUV was parked.

"Yeah?" I asked, not connecting any of the dots as to what this had to do with me.

"For colleges," Gemma supplied as we climbed into the car.

"Oh."

"So I figured we'd have a look at those when we got home, see if you like the look of anywhere." This was a surprise for me- I didn't really see Gemma as the type of parental figure who sat there looking through college prospectuses and seriously discussing the future of my education.

"Really?" I asked, uncertain.

"Sure. Your father and I have actually been talking-"

"Great," I interrupted spitefully. I was still super pissed with Clay- not for punishing me though, so much as for the fact that, lately, it just didn't feel like he _liked_ me very much. He seemed to be in a permanent bad mood and seemed to take it out on me- whether that was intentional or not, it sucked, because I'd always gotten on well with my Dad. It was difficult to find myself suddenly at odds with him in such a big way.

"Eliza," Gemma said, in a warning tone that was not to be fucked with. I wisely fell silent. She paused for a minute before she continued, hitting the road. "We know that you're not super into your schooling but you're making decent grades all around now, and you're very talented with your art. You could probably get in somewhere pretty good, maybe even get some kind of partial scholarship."

"Huh?" I was totally not getting this, at all. We'd never seriously talked about me going to college before.

"I figure, you've had a pretty rough time of things since you came to town, with one thing or another. You grew up in Prothero, you're probably missing the city by now and college would be a great chance for you to get back to that, maybe open up your horizons a little. You could go to Sacramento or maybe even further away. Somewhere awesome like New York-"

"New York?" I repeated. I shook my head. "Gemma…"

"-It'd be kind of a shame to miss an opportunity-"

"Why are you guys trying to get rid of me?" I questioned quietly. I wasn't able to keep the hurt note from seeping through in my voice. I knew that my coming to live here had been unexpected and possibly unwanted, but my mother had died- where else could I have done? At least, I'd thought things had gone well since I got to Charming… until recently.

"Eliza," Gemma sounded pained as we turned onto our street. "We're not. Of course we're not."

"You're talking about me going to college literally the other side of the country, right out the blue! Clay can barely even look at me and now you're suddenly taking an interest in my education!" We were pulling up outside the house by the time I was done.

"You've got the wrong idea, honey, you-" But I was out of the car.

"Where are my car keys?" The vehicle itself was sat feet away from us, useless, but all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there, away from them. By the sounds of it, that was what Gemma wanted too. But she'd gotten out of the car now and she was looking at me sadly.

"Clay has them," She replied. Angry, I kicked the tyre of her car before storming into the house, up to my room, and locking the door. After a couple of minutes of me furiously tearing apart my bedroom, crashing about as noisily as possible, I ran out of steam and sat on my bed, contemplating what to do, but every idea was thwarted by my lack of access to my car. I wanted to scream with frustration. Clay couldn't make his mind up, it seemed- he either wanted me thousands of miles away or right under his nose, being kept in like a prisoner when I hadn't even done anything wrong. In that way only a teenager can, with all the intensity of hormones and youthful rage within, I truly believed in that moment that my father must hate me. And the apparent fact of it broke my heart so thoroughly that all of a sudden, without even realising it, I was making a plan.

* * *

 **A/N: Eliza is going off the deep end and Gemma is supporting Clay even if she doesn't agree with what he's doing. Whatever is coming next?**


	22. Get Thy Bearings

**Chapter Twenty Two: Get Thy Bearings**

 _ **Get your bearings, know your time  
Don't you worry, weather's fine  
All the world knows what I'm saying  
All the world knows what I'm saying  
~ **_**Get Thy Bearings – Donovan ~**

The first part of my plan was to buckle under. Clay had made it clear under no uncertain terms that I was grounded and not to go anywhere alone. Two weeks later and he still hadn't returned my car keys, and I was having to be picked up from school everyday, usually by one of the guys. While ladt year, when I was new, this had made me semi-popular, this year because I'd done such a good job of thoroughly ignoring my classmates, it made me the subject of further derision. Still, I did everything I was supposed to do, not trying to even sneak out or recover my car keys, though I didn't speak to Clay at all during this time. To be fair, he didn't speak to me either. Just grunted in my direction when we did see one another at the house, which I always ignored.

By the end of week two, Gemma was at the end of her tether. Clay had loudly announced to nobody in particular that I was to stay put at the house all day- a Saturday- until he sent somebody to come by and bring me to the clubhouse that night. Then he'd stomped out of the house and we'd listened to him roar off on his bike, leaving myself, Gemma, Jax and Wendy at the table, as they'd joined us for breakfast, in an awkward silence. I saw the other three look at one another but not one of them said a word. I gave up on my cereal promptly. While I was not complaining or acting up to anyone's face, I wasn't pretending to be happy about what was going on either. I got up and left the table and headed for my room, sitting at my desk and sketching darkly, not paying much attention to what I was doing.

Eventually, I heard Jax's bike zoom off too, which meant he and Wendy were gone. I put down my pencil resignedly, knowing I had three seconds before Gemma burst into my room. I was right on the money.

"You need to try and talk to your father," She declared.

"What, like you have?" I retorted.

"Don't give me that attitude," Gemma snapped, but then she softened ever so slightly, "You know none of this prisoner shit was my idea."

"You haven't tried to get him to quit," I pointed out bluntly, still not looking at her.

"He's your father, and he wants to parent you in his own way. Even if you think it's too little too late," She continued before I could interrupt, " _I_ have to respect that."

"Lately, any time I try to talk to Clay we just end up blowing up at each other. I'm tired of fighting."

"Well I'm tired of living in this shitty, silent atmosphere!" I finally looked up at her. Gemma looked sincerely upset by everything, and I did feel guilty in that moment because I knew I'd been acting the brat and exacerbating the situation- or at least, I had been before he grounded me. Now I was just silently working on a solution that I knew neither parent would like, but it was the only way out as far as I could see.

"There is nothing I can say that Clay will listen to. The best thing for me to do for all of us is to put up and shut up. It stops things getting worse." I did genuinely feel that way, though once again I knew it was not what Gemma wanted to hear. She frowned down at me and folded her arms.

"So you're just gonna give up? Not even try to figure things out with your Dad?"

"I'm figuring things out," I stated, but I didn't explain. Gemma narrowed her eyes at me.

"I don't like this. You two just need to talk, it's the only way shit gets resolved around here," She informed me. "Clay won't like it. God, he hates talking. But trust me, you're not gonna get anywhere by ignoring him and locking yourself away, letting him walk all over you." I just shrugged and she let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. Stay here, sulk all day. I have some shit to do. Someone will be by to-"

"-Bring me to the clubhouse, I know," I supplied. Gemma glared at me some more but then finally seemed to give up, at least for now.

"Hmph. I'll see you later." It was after she had left the house and driven away that I finally came out of my room again, headed downstairs, and picked up the phone.

* * *

My father walked right by me without even looking my way as I climbed off Juice's bike at TM. I ignored him just as determinedly- or maybe a little too well, because the young biker noticed.  
"Clay's still giving you a hard time, huh?" He asked.

"Yep. I have to be under his nose all the time so I can't misbehave elsewhere," I replied, but Juice seemed surprised at my breeziness when I said it. He raised his eyebrows. I smiled wide. "I guess I'll just have to misbehave right under his nose."

Several hours later and I was doing myself proud. I was very drunk, the centre of the party, dancing with bikers and hangarounds alike and having driven a very pissed off Clay out of the clubhouse. I knew he just didn't want to play the psychotic father role in front of his brothers so I used it to my full advantage, prancing around with a bottle of Jack in one hand and my flannel shirt in the other, leaving me in just a crop top as I whirled the garment about my head. This entire thing was very out of character for me, but that was after all the general idea. Clay feared I would sneak out if he left me alone long enough for him to attend a party at the clubhouse, and Gemma was out with Luann that night, so he'd seen himself as having no choice but to bring me along for this. Big mistake, clearly, but a substantial victory for me. I hadn't broken a single one of his rules and I'd still succeeded in pissing him off enough to leave.

Most of the party itself was a whirlwind of crazy behaviour on my part, but it was around the time I began dancing possibly a little too close with Hobart that an arm wrapped around my waist and practically lifted me off my feet as it dragged me backwards away from the dancefloor and onto the couch. A second strong hand prised the Jack Daniels out of my hand and it took a little twisting to realise the arm locking me to someone's side belonged to Tig. His blue eyes caught mine, full of amusement.

"I still got a job to do," He informed me, but it was clear from the way his words slurred slightly that he was also pretty drunk.

"I was fine," I protested.

"Dancing with Kyle? Really?" Tig shook his head. "I know you're goin' through your little, angry adolescent rebellion, but you should pick less low hanging fruit." He finished this by taking a swig of the whiskey.

"I'm not going through an adolescent-" I hiccuped, "Rebellion."

"I beg ter differ," Chibs sat down on my other side. "Ye could choose better than Tigger too."

"Hey!" Tig protested, "Motherfucker-"

"Well, yer hoggin' her for yourself," The Scotsman jested, hooking his arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer to him, away from Tig, who withdrew his arm and held his free hand up in mock-surrender.

"Thought you had a thing going with that young Chicago brother, Kitten," Tig commented.

"S'not a _thing,"_ I pouted.

"He likes ye," Chibs informed me.

"You're a pair of women," I accused, wiggling out from under his arm. Fleet hadn't really approached me tonight, but we tended not to in front of the whole club. I could see him from where I was sat. He was at the bar with a croweater.

"If you really wanted to piss off yer Da'," Chibs began, "An' ye didnae hear this from me, lass- ye could always _make_ that a thing."

"Oh you two would be so adorable," Tig teased, tickling my ribs and making kissing noises at me.

"Stop," I requested, too drunk to really match them in teasing. I stood up. "I was havin' a good night before you two gossip-mongers interrupted..."

"C'mon Kitten, we were just kidding." To my shock, Tig yanked me back again so that I fell backwards and was sat on his lap. It took me a minute in my drunk state to really process this, but Tig continued to swig from the whiskey as if this was entirely normal.

"So ye saved her from the pervert just to be an even bigger one yerself," Chibs addressed the curly haired man incredulously. "Ye better not let Jax catch sight of ye."

"I am _not_ being a perv," Tig insisted. "I'm stopping Kitten from getting herself into trouble. Although..." He sighed in my ear in a way that made a shiver run down my spine and left goosebumps behind. "You've got a point about Jax." He gently and easily slid me to the side and back onto the couch between himself and Chibs.

"Aye well… I think someone else might be volunteerin' fer that job," Chibs mumbled. I looked up to see Fleet approaching. He had a smile on his face but his dark eyes were glinting with something else.

"Mind if I borrow her for a dance?" He asked the two older men. He didn't give any of us a chance to reply or say anything before he was pulling me to my feet and tugging me back out to the dancefloor. He wasn't exactly being gentle as he seized my hands in his and began pulling me around. I waited for him to say something but it became clear after a minute or so that he wasn't going to.

"What's wrong with you?" I questioned drunkenly.

"Nothing."

"Almost pull my arm out the socket _nothing,"_ I mumbled, trying to pull my hands out of his grip, but Fleet just held on tighter, glaring at me with his liquid dark eyes. His jaw was clenched and he looked pissed off for the first time since I'd met him.

"You're making a fool of yourself," He snapped at me finally. "Dancing around like that, sitting on Tig's lap like a damn-"

"A damn _what?"_ I was suddenly feeling a little more sober as I challenged him, knowing what he was about to say. Fleet evidently thought better of actually calling me a slut when he saw my eyes flash dangerously at him, but his face didn't lose any of it's anger.

"You're gonna give people the wrong idea," He changed tactics.

"What idea is that?" I was ready for an argument now, like I always seemed to be these days. Possibly it was the fact I was holding back so much with Clay at home, and maybe the whiskey didn't help either- but I was suddenly raring to go for a screaming match, another out of character thing for me.

"The idea you're a pass-around." A pass-around was the term people around the club used for the girls who weren't quite loyal enough to be considered true croweaters but that got passed from member to member like a piece of meat.

"Oh, I'm sure they _all_ think that's what I am," I snapped back sarcastically, finally succeeding in pulling my hands back out of his grip. "I have an idea, why don't you say that a little louder so they can hear you?" I growled dangerously. Fleet just glared back at me.

"This isn't you," He said finally, "It was one thing when you snuck out that time and I picked you up. But this fuckin' party chick, drunk off her ass flirting with men twice her age? It ain't you, Eliza." Unfortunately for Fleet, this was exactly the wrong thing to say, especially then. I folded my arms.

"How the fuck do you know who _I_ am?" I demanded. "What am I meant to do, sit on the fucking sidelines like a loser while I watch my _Dad_ have a better fucking social life than I do? Watch you flirt with croweaters and wait for you to get done so you can come kiss me goodnight and then go off and fuck one of them? 'Cause that's what this is really about." Somehow, I knew I was right too, even though I was still drunk. It was something I'd never have the self-confidence to admit to myself when I was sober, but my drunk self knew it to be true. Fleet didn't care that I was drunk or having a good time. He cared that I was having a good time without him. Fleetwood Janowitz was jealous.

"That's bullshit," He scoffed.

"Yeah, whatever. You have no right to be jealous, Fleet."

"Keep your voice down," He snapped, which drew my attention to the fact people were staring and starting to listen in.

"What's going on?" Apparently, Jax was one of those people. He came over with a concerned, borderline intimidating, look on his face as his blue eyes scanned Fleet up and down.

"Nothing. Apparently, having fun is not _me."_

"You know that's not what I meant," Fleet protested, looking at Jax worriedly.

"I haven't done anything wrong. Clay said I'm grounded except for the clubhouse. I'll be damned if I let you ruin the only place left where I'm actually allowed to crack a fucking smile, Fleet." I turned around, not one trace of that smile on my face, and headed for Jax's dorm room before we attracted even more unwanted attention.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza and Clay are at a stalemate. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh? What is Eliza planning? All will be revealed soon. And how about Fleet getting jealous of Tig... if only he could see the future right? Haha. Thanks to everyone for reviewing!**


	23. Real Wild Child

**Chapter Twenty Three: Real Wild Child**

 _ **Got to break it loose  
Going to keep them moving wild  
Going to keep a-swinging baby  
I'm a real wild child  
~ **_**Real Wild Child (Wild One) – Iggy Pop ~**

 _ **Bobby's P.O.V.**_

" _What the fuck has gotten into her." Jax was livid. His little sister, Eliza, had stormed off out of the party towards the dorms after an altercation, Lenny's nephew from the Chicago charter. I sighed. Jax had been watching her behaviour all night on the orders of Clay, who proclaimed that his kid was giving him trouble lately. I guessed it was a part of her punishment to draw Jax's attention to her, because he was far more protective of the Little One than even her Dad was. I just thanked the heavens Jax hadn't noticed her sitting on Tig's lap a couple minutes before. Keeping him level when it came to his sister was tiring._

" _She's a teenage girl," I tried to ease my young brother. "She's just drank a bit too much."_

" _Clay's right. She's gotten out of control," Jax growled, "And that little_ shit _from Chicago isn't helping." He was standing up. I didn't know if he planned to go after Eliza or to head over and throttle Fleet but neither was a good idea. I grabbed his arm._

" _Brother, take a breath. She's fine."_

" _She's only seventeen, Bobby, she's-"_

" _-Not doing anything_ near _as bad as the shit you did when_ you _were seventeen. Or any of us, for that matter. She's a kid, she's overdone it a little at a party, she's acting out against her Dad, she's got boy problems. It's normal shit, brother. Flying off the handle right now is not going to stop her." I managed to sound like I knew what I was talking about even though I didn't really know shit about teenage girls. But truth be told, I felt sorry for Eliza. She was a good kid- covered Kozik's ass when he got into the scrap with Darby, never asked too many questions and was pretty good company. What she got for her efforts was being treated like a criminal by her brother and father._

" _If she carries on the way she has been, she's gonna get herself into trouble," Jax fretted. By this point, Fleet had rejoined the party, though he still looked pissed. I was sure the croweater crawling into his lap right then would soon fix that, though._

" _The way she's been going, I think she_ wants _to get in trouble." This wasn't her fucking up. She wasn't stupid, never had been. She was acting out on purpose and all Clay was doing was making shit worse. "What she needs, is someone in her corner in the family. Not someone who is gonna kick her ass for doing normal teenage shit."_

 _Miraculously, Jax seemed to actually hear me. He looked around at me, looking like a light had just switched on in his head. But then his face fell a bit.  
"I don't want her anywhere near _him _," The scowl returned as he jerked his head in Fleet's direction. I chuckled._

" _Of course you don't," I humoured him. But, I knew as well as everyone else did, that it was too late for that with the Little One and the Chicago kid. Honestly, in my humble opinion she could do worse. He was close to her age, pretty smart and didn't seem to be a total asshole. But Jax saw Eliza as a kid and he didn't trust any man around his kid sister. Jax shrugged, downed his beer, and stood up. But this time I didn't stop him as he headed towards the dorms, because he seemed calmer and I knew he'd listened to me. I chuckled again to myself, shaking my head and turning back to the bar to order another beer._

* * *

"Eliza?" The door to the dorm room had opened and Jax announced his entry, though my back was to the door as I was perched on the edge of his bed. "You alright?" He questioned.

"Fine," I lied, hastily wiping away a tear before he could see it. "Just needed a breather."

"How's that going for ya?" He asked as he stepped around to look down at me.

"Not so well," I admitted.

"How come?"

"Soon as I sat down I realised how shitfaced I actually am," I mumbled. Jax actually laughed and offered out his hand.

"Come on, let's get you some fresh air, sis." I took his hand and let him lead me out of the clubhouse. I took care not to catch anyone's eye, especially not Fleet's, though I did see him making out with some croweater. It didn't take him long, though I felt like he was probably trying to prove a point more than anything. Jax took me to the picnic tables outside and I sat on the tabletop, my feet resting on the bench, and closed my eyes, breathing in and trying to tell my own head to stop spinning. Jax sat beside me.

"I know there's shit going on with you and Clay at home," He broached. "You know you can talk to me about that stuff, right?"

"I don't want to," I muttered. I didn't want to talk about anything in that moment, but especially not that.

"Okay," Jax agreed, "Just letting you know."

"Next month," I garbled, "I'll have been in Charming for a year." It seemed to take my brother a moment to process this, but then he replied:

"Shit. That's gone fast."

"Yeah… just started to actually feel used to things… and now..." I shrugged. Now Clay was being an ass and forcing me to make decisions I didn't know for sure were for the best, but I knew had to be a hell of a lot better than the military regime he wanted to run at home…

"It'll get better," Jax promised me, sounding like he believed it, but I wasn't so sure. "And if not, there's always college next fall," He added, as if he could sense what I was thinking.

"Yeah..." I mumbled, not wanting to sound too certain, but when I looked at him he was going blurry round the edges and it hardly mattered anymore.

"You feeling okay, sis?" He asked. But I couldn't answer, because in the next second I'd jumped off the picnic table to turn and throw up on the floor. Jax came up behind me, pulling my hair out of the way and rubbing my back. Once it was all up I stood bent over for a minute, trying to collect myself, before straightening up. I was a bit worried Jax would bring up college again but thankfully he didn't seem so keen on asking me any more questions.

"I'll take you home, sis."

* * *

"You can have your car back." A couple of days after the raucous night at the clubhouse, I was sat eating my breakfast when Clay abruptly slammed my car keys down on the table in front of me. "You're still grounded though." He grunted. I raised my eyes to Gemma opposite me at the table while Clay took his seat. She just smirked at me.

"To what do I owe this grand generosity?" I asked Clay sarcastically. Gemma's expression changed to one of warning, but Clay was ready with a reply that knocked the wind right out of my sails:

"Can't spare a guy to chauffeur you around for the next few days." I wasn't hungry anymore. I dropped my spoon, abandoning my cereal, and scooped up my car keys. "Where are you going?" Clay asked as I stood up without a word and began heading to the door. My bag was by the front door so I grabbed it on the way.

"School," I snapped back.

"Straight there, and straight home. No fucking around," He growled, but I barely heard him as I slammed the door behind me.

I was seething for most of the morning, but by the afternoon I was beginning to look on the bright side. The next part of my plan could go into action now, even though it meant breaking one of Clay's pathetic rules. I even managed to feel not so pissed off when I had to sit next to Michael in one of my classes. Then again, he barely even registered on my radar anymore, and if truth be told if I was going to be pissed off at a boy, my entire capacity for that was taken up by Fleet right then, who hadn't even sent me a text message since he acted like a jealous ass at the clubhouse. Over _Tig_ of all people. I only wished there had been something to substantiate his jealousy, of course, because Tig was nothing more than Clay's friend looking out for me. He'd proven that a dozen times.

When school finished, I immediately ignored Clay's last order and didn't head home, where I knew it'd be awhile before anyone was there to actually check on me anyway. Instead, I drove out to the edge of town, to The Rose- the same run down hole I'd drank in before.

Even in the middle of the day it was filled with the same old, grey patrons who had nothing better to do but drink their lives away.  
I wasn't permitted to return to my job at Lumpy's, and everyone else in town was shit scared of Clay's wrath and I knew even if they were willing to hire me, it'd soon get back to him, which was not what I wanted. But, the manager of The Rose didn't care, and I was surprised but genuinely pleased when my request came off- apparently, he'd needed an extra pair of hands behind the bar for a while. He didn't give a shit that I was too young to legally serve alcohol, just like I didn't care that my employment would be off the books and I'd get paid in cash. I just needed an income.

By the time I returned home, the shitty mood of that morning was a distant memory. Gone were the days of obeying Clay's new rules- I was in phase two and it was already shaping up better than I hoped. Now all I had to worry about was how I was going to get out of the house when I had a shift without Clay putting a tail on me or physically locking me in my room.

I'd beaten even Gemma back home, so I headed up to my room with the phone (still no cellphone), and dialled Donna. It took a few rings before she picked up and when she did, I could hear Ellie screaming in the background.  
"Oh sorry," I said hastily, "It's a bad time. I can call back-"

"No! Trust me, I've needed adult conversation all day. Just hold on a second?" Donna requested. I agreed and I heard scuffling, then she pressed the hold button. I guessed it had to be hard, with Opie always busy with the club and Donna stuck at home with a baby. I knew she was due to go back to work but they weren't sure how they were going to afford a nanny for Ellie. A couple of minutes passed before Donna returned, but this time things sounded much calmer in the background.  
"Hey, Eliza. It's good to hear from you," She said, "You haven't come by in a while." I'd been dropping in on Donna semi-regularly, but obviously that'd gone kaput since Clay cracked down on me.

"I'm grounded," I rolled my eyes even though she couldn't see me, "Don't even have my cellphone."

"And I thought I'd done something to piss you off, since you weren't replying to my texts," Donna chuckled. "What did they bust you for?"

"I don't even remember anymore," I sighed. It was something petty and stupid, that was what I remembered. Something unfair. But it hardly mattered anymore. "It's been a month, Donna. I'm losing my shit."

"Jesus. I know Gemma was tough even on Jax sometimes."

"It's not even Gemma, it's Clay. He's like a fucking despot, not letting me breathe." Donna let out a whistle, which I knew signified her surprise.

"I thought Clay was always pretty… laid back with you," She chose her words carefully. I knew Donna thought Clay had been too easy on me- but I appreciated that was mainly because her own parents had been incredibly strict with her. "Damn. I wish I could help you," She said.

"Well, actually… I was hoping maybe you could." I carefully explained what I was planning to do, and how. "...All I need is for you to like, insist that you're…. Tutoring me or something, so that I can get into a decent college in the fall."

"I thought you'd be applying to an art school or something," Donna said thoughtfully.

"I am," I responded, "But you still need good grades all-round to get in anywhere decent and I know for a fact you were a little goody-goody back when you were at school." Jax and Opie had teased her about it the last time we'd all been together, reminiscing on their own high school days together, although Donna had been a couple of years below the two boys at the time.

"I got straight A's," Donna admitted with some pride. "I don't know why I didn't carry on with school after that…"

"Donna, you do realise you're not _actually_ gonna be tutoring me, right? I just need cover so I can go to work without Clay and Gemma asking any questions, and you're literally the only friend I have that's believable." She was also the only friend I had, period.

"I don't mind covering for you. As crazy as what you're doing is… I think you can do it. But what if Opie asks questions or he lets slip something?"

"Opie isn't gonna care," I said confidently. The biggest biker and I had always gotten along well, he'd always looked out for me even when I was a kid along with Jax, but I also knew he'd never rat on me. He didn't have that overprotective streak in him when it came to me.

"I guess not," Donna agreed. "Okay… just let me know when you're supposed to be at my house so I can back you up. And if anything ever happens in that sketchy-ass bar you're gonna work in," She added somewhat fiercely, "I'm the only one you're gonna be able to call. So you _better_ tell me."

"I promise," I said, "Thank you so much, Donna. I owe you one." I heard the front door close, announcing the arrival of Gemma back home. "I have to go now."

"Talk soon, Eliza," Donna replied, sounding amused as we hung up the call.

* * *

At the end of a very eventful day, I wound up going to bed early. I mainly did this to get out of the way before Clay came home, not wanting to ruin my improved mood with another fight, and Gemma didn't stand in my way so I knew she had to be thinking along the same lines. Still, with all the excitement of getting my new job (and getting it all by myself, without the aid of the MC) and Donna helping me come up with a cover plan, I fell asleep pretty early.

I did not expect to be woken up at two in the morning.

At first I wasn't sure what actually woke me up. But I heard a scuffling noise and turned over in bed, only to almost scream the damn house down when I saw a dark shape moving just outside my window. Immediately, I was on my feet, my eyes still bleary, my knife clutched in my hand. But then, thanks to the fact I'd fallen asleep early, I hadn't shut my blinds- and I was able to recognise the intruder as Fleet, desperately motioning at me to let him in as he balanced precariously on the window ledge. I dropped the knife and hastily went and opened it. He climbed in.

"Jesus. I've been knocking for like fifteen minutes, I almost fell twice," He whispered, "Didn't think you were gonna wake up."

"What the fuck are you doing?" I whispered back.

"I need to talk to you."

"So you climb in through my window?"

"I can't exactly call you and you didn't come by TM today..." He sat down on my bed, pulling me down with him. I glared at him.

"Clay insisted I come straight home from school," I informed him grudgingly. Nevermind the fact I hadn't exactly followed that order, having gone to The Rose first. But Fleet didn't need to know that. Maybe I ordinarily might've told him, but I was still pissed off about the other night. Maybe he hoped I wouldn't remember, but I did.

"Well… look, I'm here now."

"If you get caught we are both very fucking dead," I glanced towards the bedroom door nervously. "You need to get out of here. Gemma has ears like a…. like something with good hearing," I added. This made him chuckle. I hit him on the arm, pissed off.

"Here's me thinking I was being romantic," Fleet said.

"I'm not into romance. What do you want?" I demanded, still anxious that I'd get caught with Fleet in my room even though I hadn't invited him.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry… and we need to talk, Eliza. Please."

"Fleet..." I looked towards the door again, pointedly.

"Fine!" He exclaimed in a hushed voice. He reached into his kutte and pulled out a small burner phone, handing it to me. "Message me from this, let me know a time and place. It's important, okay? And you didn't get that from me." I looked at the device.

"Jesus."

"Please, Eliza." I stared at him but for once, his cool outer demeanour wasn't in place. He looked almost as nervous as I felt, and even somewhat desperate. I felt myself yield a little, though mostly it was out of curiosity for what was so important that it couldn't wait until the next time we were both at TM or the clubhouse.

"Okay," I agreed. "Now get out."

"I'm going," Fleet said quickly, but he smirked in apparent relief that I had agreed to what he wanted. I rolled my eyes and walked with him back to the window. He looked at me. "Thanks," He said briefly, kissing me on the cheek. I blinked, watching him as he somehow climbed almost cat-like out of the window and down the pipe beside it. I guessed he was the guy his charter used for breaking into places, since he seemed to have some skill at scaling buildings. He walked out of sight and somewhere much further down the road I heard his bike engine start up, though it was too faint to disturb anyone.

I went back to bed, curled up under my covers and fell asleep again. When the morning came I would question whether a young biker had really snuck in through my window the previous night had _actually_ happened or if I'd just been watching too many teen movies packed with cliches. If it wasn't for the burner phone under my pillow I would've thought it was fiction.

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza really is up to something, and Donna is onside. Will Clay and Gemma find out she got a job in secret? I hope you enjoyed Bobby's perspective. I also hope you enjoyed a little teen cliche there with Fleet showing up in the middle of the night. What has he got to say to Eliza that's so important?**


	24. Give Me Novacaine

**Chapter Twenty Four: Give Me Novacaine**

 _ **Give me a long kiss goodnight  
And everything will be alright  
Tell me that I won't feel a thing  
So give me Novacaine  
**_ **~ Give Me Novacaine – Green Day ~**

It was an unusually cold morning when I woke up with the feeling of some heavy weight pressing down on me. It took me a moment, lying in my bed in Clay and Gemma's house, to really see my surroundings. Because for a second I was back in my old bedroom, the great colourful lion I'd painted on my wall staring down at me through the piercing light as I'd never really had curtains or blinds on the window to keep out the sunlight. I had goosebumps and the same sense of dread I'd woken up with since I was a kid, wondering what sight I'd walk out to when I left my room. But then I blinked and reality faded back in, overlapping the memories. I was safe, those days were gone, and I was in the _now._ If only I could forget the reason I'd felt that way in the first place; today was the first anniversary of my mother's death.

That particular day had actually started out as normal as life had ever been when I lived with Ellen. I'd come out of my room to find my mother and one of her junkie buddies still awake from the night before, spaced out, staring at the TV almost unseeingly. Neither of them even acknowledged me as I walked by. I'd gone to school, loading up in the cafeteria because even though the food was shitty, there was probably nothing to eat at home. At the end of the day I'd headed back, walked in through the door…

* * *

" _ **Home!" I called, like always. I didn't really expect an answer, but I headed into the living room anyway. Sometimes Mom would actually be alone and I'd get a chance to talk to her. Things would even seem okay for a while, and she'd ask me how I was doing and I'd chat to her about nothing, like a normal teenage girl. But she wasn't on the couch where I expected to find her. She hadn't held down a job in years, and a quick check of the bedroom came up empty too. Finally I went into the kitchen. I didn't think she'd be in there- I figured she'd just gone out. I was halfway to the fridge when I spotted an arm on the floor. I stepped back to peer around the counter, and there she was. Her skin was a sickly grey colour, a syringe lay on the floor beside her, the needle still touching her skin.**_

" _ **Shit," I huffed. I'd seen my mother overdose before, a couple of times. Once she'd still been conscious but foaming at the mouth. Another time she'd been passed out like this and I'd called 911. I bent down beside her, my cell phone already in my hand, ready to dial for the ambulance. "Mom, wake up," I said, reaching out to shake her. She didn't respond. "Mom?" I repeated. She still wasn't responding. I pulled back her eyelid, and her pupil was just as non-responsive. My teeth ground together with tension, a habit she always told me was like my father. I refused to panic, though. Not yet. "Mom, wake up, come on, I'm gonna get you to hospital..." I shook her harder, and harder again, and still nothing. I reached out to take her hand, I'm not sure why. But it was then that I realised how cold her skin was to the touch. And when I tried to move her fingers they were rigid…**_

" _ **Mom!" I yelled. "Mom, wake up!" Nothing… Nothing… And somehow, my fingers found her wrist, her pulse… or where her pulse should be… I looked at my mother's body. I didn't know how I didn't see it the second I clapped eyes on her. "You're dead," I said out loud, blankly. And then I was flinging myself away from her body. I'd never seen a corpse before, and somehow that observation took precedence for a second. Freaked out, I couldn't make my mind believe my eyes. I sat down on the floor a little ways away from my mother. My stomach felt sick, my ears were ringing… I needed to call 911 regardless. I fumbled my phone, forcing my fingers to hit the buttons, dial the numbers, but somehow instead of 911, I was calling my father.**_

" _ **Hey honey," Clay's voice was relaxed, and he sounded pleased to hear from me. He'd picked up on the second ring, which meant he couldn't be doing anything too much. "How're you doing?"**_

" _ **I..." My voice didn't sound right even to my own ears. I wasn't crying or anything, but I sounded off.**_

" _ **Ellie?" Clay heard it too. "Ellie, are you okay?"**_

" _ **Dad..." I said.**_

" _ **Yeah? What's going on, Eliza? Talk to me," He ordered. Somehow, his commanding tone, it gave me the strength to put into words what was actually going on right before my eyes. It was probably just the relief of having an adult to take charge, or at least tell me what the hell to do and how to do it.**_

" _ **Dad… I just came home from school and… Mom…. she's dead." There was a moment of absolute, painful silence.**_

" _ **What?" The single syllable question was sharp.**_

" _ **She's… she had a needle hanging out of her arm… on the floor… she's stiff… no pulse."**_

" _ **Shit!" Clay said, and I felt myself twitch. "Shit! Ellie… okay… Is anyone else there?" He asked. I could tell he was having a lot of trouble trying to keep calm.**_

" _ **No… no just me," I replied in barely more than a whisper.**_

" _ **Okay… fuck, I'm hours away… Fuck. Eliza, you need to call 911. Just tell them the truth, okay?" There was nothing to cover up, after all. Ellen was a known drug addict. This would come as a shock to absolutely nobody. Even though the entire situation was unpleasant and horrifying to me, it hadn't shocked me at all.**_

" _ **Okay… but Dad," I addressed him hoarsely. "What do I**_ **do** ** _?"_**

" _ **Just… just sit tight, okay? Everything's gonna be alright. I promise. When you're off the phone from the operator just call me back. I'll be right here, okay?"**_

* * *

A year on, and it dawned on me, as I stepped into the shower, that I was yet to shed a tear for my mother. I stared blankly ahead of myself, wondering what was wrong with me. But then I reminded myself that crying didn't solve anything. If my Mom had given a damn, she would've gotten clean years ago. I wouldn't have been neglected, abused, even starved during my childhood. She would still be around, probably helping me with boys and applying to art school and…

"Morning sweetie," Gemma smiled at me as I sat down at the table. "You got in late again last night." I'd been working last night, at The Rose. Donna was still covering for me when that happened- somehow, Clay and Gemma had bought the whole tutoring thing. Clay was worryingly ferocious in his support of me getting into a good college and Gemma just seemed pleased that he was allowing me out of the house again, even if it was only when I was with Donna. It'd been two weeks since I acquired my new job behind their back. In all that time, I'd also managed to keep my burner phone hidden, though Fleet and I had entirely failed to meet up in private like he'd asked.

"I suck at calculus," I shrugged, taking a slice of toast and biting into it.

"Calculus? Is that his name?" Gemma asked, and I choked on my toast.

"W-what?" I stammered once I'd managed to clear my airway again.

"Oh come on. Studying with Donna," Gemma rolled her eyes. "It's _got_ to be a boy."

"It isn't!" At least I was being honest when I said this.

"I'm not going to tell Clay," She informed me archly, "I just want to know who he is, Eliza. Make sure he meets our standards this time." She hadn't let the whole Michael thing rest since at all happened. I stared back at Gemma stoically.

"There's no boy, Gemma," I insisted. She leaned closer to me, lowering her voice in a knowing kind of way:

"Is it Fleet?"

I wasn't working that night- I'd intended to see if I could meet up with Fleet, but it had slipped my mind until Gemma mentioned him. The fact of the date that it was had driven the matters at hand from my mind momentarily.

"Nothing's going on with Fleet." It wasn't the whole truth, but I hadn't been sneaking out to meet him, so it wasn't really a lie.

"I like him," Gemma mused anyway, ignoring my claim, "He could be a good match for you. Maybe you're a tad too… innocent, though." I rolled my eyes. This conversation was going nowhere.

"I'm gonna be late for school," I announced, standing up and abandoning my cereal.

"Eliza," Gemma addressed me, but I ignored her this time. This just wasn't a conversation I was in the mood for having. I knew I could do with motherly advice, but not today. Not exactly a year after my actual mother died- it was just too much.

"I'll see you later!" I called as I hurried out the door. I drove to school in somewhat of a daze, my mind still totally elsewhere.

My day didn't get any better when I arrived at school. As usual, I did my best to keep my head down and stay out of everyone's way, though I couldn't help but notice, again, the fact that I was a total loner, alone in a sea of cliques and chattering teenagers. At this point in time, the Sons were somewhat out of favour with the people of Charming too, so I was getting more stares and nudges than usual. I ignored those easily, until halfway to homeroom I overheard some girls talking- not that they were troubling to keep their voices down.

"-My Dad works for Jacob Hale and I heard that the biker trash will be behind bars soon enough. At least then we won't have to look at _that_ sour face everyday." I glanced over my shoulder to where the girls were, leaning against some lockers. Jennifer Huntley, I recognised her as one of the mean cheerleaders who had made life hell for Dana the previous year.

"You think she'd leave town if her old man got locked up? I mean, doesn't she have a step-mom?" One of the other, identical blonde girls questioned. They were eyeing me even as they spoke, obviously not giving a shit whether or not I heard. I turned back around, intending to just carry on my way down the hall. Unfortunately, my way was blocked by a group of raucous freshmen boys who weren't paying attention to me.

"Well yeah but what step-mom _wants_ the ugly step-daughter to stick around?" Jen responded derisively.

"I just don't get why she thinks she's all that. She's not even that pretty, she has no friends and you never even see her out. She's a loser," The only brunette of the group listed my flaws.

"David Riley said he thinks she's hot," The second blonde girl mentioned.

"David Riley is an idiot and so was Michael Quinn. You know these high school boys only want her 'cause they know she's a biker whore anyway…" Usually, I either paid no attention to this kind of talk, or I got pissed off and put the world to rights. But for some reason, that day, I just couldn't do it. Somehow, the pathetic words of jealous, ignorant smalltown bitches broke through my hard and fast wall and I felt my eyes welling up with tears. With the path before me clear at last, I kept my head down, hiding behind my mane of red hair as I continued on my way.

My first couple of classes were uneventful, but I didn't really take anything in, sat in a daze staring down at my exercise books until the bell rang. But right before lunch, I had Algebra, where I was forced to sit beside Michael. Normally, I felt pretty secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't say anything to me, but I must've been giving off an aura of weakness because for the first time since the very first day of the school year, he swivelled in his seat to smirk up at me as I approached.

"Hey, Eliza," He greeted me with a smug smile. I looked at him quickly then looked away, going to sit down, except he put his hand on my seat to prevent me from doing so. "Not even a hi, huh? Isn't it kinda time you got over me? I'm over you." I still couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"Move your hand," I told him quietly.

"Oh come on, babe. Did what Jen said about you hurt today?" I felt myself stiffen. Obviously, those girls had noticed the fact I'd gotten upset. "I put them right, you know. Told them the truth- you're a frigid bitch. You're a freak who could barely even stand to let me kiss you." But I only heard one word in all of that- _freak._ The single syllable bounced around inside my head. If today was a day of bad memories, that word could sum them all up. The one name I'd been called consistently since I was seven years old and got caught stealing food from the cafeteria because I hadn't eaten for days, and clean clothes from the PE department lost and found because I didn't have any and I was too young to go to the laundry place by myself. The name that had stuck, right up until I'd finally gotten away, moved to Charming. And today, it had finally caught up to me- so it would seem. I was definitely overreacting due to my general emotional state, but one moment I was stood beside Michael, staring down at his hand on my seat, listening to the echo of the word _freak…_

And the next, Michael Quinn was on the floor, while I kicked the ever-loving shit out of him. I didn't even remember moving. I also didn't even know what crazy shit was coming out of my mouth as, incensed, I screamed obscenities at him while he covered his face and I aimed kicks and blows at him. Most of them probably didn't hurt, but I was too out of control to stop. Just as suddenly, my classmates were dragging me away and the teacher was checking on Michael, who spat out a mouthful of blood, staring up at me in shock and horror while I fought off the hands of the eight people trying to hold me back. The teacher was saying something to me, reprimanding me or something, but the blood was roaring in my ears and I couldn't hear.

Through sheer adrenaline I managed to shake off the grip on me, but instead of going for Michael again I found my legs carrying me at full speed out of the door, down the empty hallways, outside, across the parking lot, throwing myself into my car. My vision had narrowed to a tunnel right in front of me- I definitely shouldn't have been driving, but I still found myself hitting the road. I didn't even know where I was going. I was certainly suspended from school now, if not worse. They were probably calling Clay and Gemma right then. I wasn't sure how they'd react- but Clay had been militant lately so I had a feeling he would be pissed at me screwing up my chances of college.

My plan was- I didn't have one. I was just going to drive until I'd calmed down enough to think of something, or at least to face the consequences I knew were bound to come. But as I headed aimlessly down the road, sirens and blue lights flashed on behind me and it was only then I looked at my speed gauge. Sighing, I pulled over to the side of the road and watched as Sergeant David Hale climbed out of his cop car and walked over towards me.

He bent down at the window. "License and regis-" He stopped when he saw it was me. "Eliza?"

"Yeah it's me," I said with hostility, preparing to step out of the car. Hale seemed for a moment as if he didn't know what to do with himself. It was funny; I'd hardly seen him in the almost year of me being in town, other than when he picked me up at that homecoming party in the woods and when he'd busted Darby and Kozik, but each meeting was a little awkward. I knew he was a huge pain in SAMCROs ass, which made me automatically wary and less than friendly towards him, but for some reason even now he seemed like he may be lenient with me. He was peering down into my face.

"Hold on, right there. This isn't like you."

"How would you know?" I retorted to his truthful observation with a challenge.

"You should be at school right now." I said nothing, shrugging up at him. "Fine. I'll just call your Dad-"

"No," I said quickly. Hale raised his eyebrows.

"You're speeding and driving dangerously, Eliza. I can either call your father or I can take you to the station. What's it going to be?"

* * *

"… What do you mean, you're at the station?" Fleet asked, shocked, down the phone. I'd begged Hale not to call my father, at least not yet, and Unser wasn't around to snitch on me. I was sat in Hale's office, in fact, when I really should've been sitting in one of the cells. He'd opted not to arrest me, but he'd taken me in anyway, probably to 'teach me a lesson'. He'd told me I could call whoever I wanted, but I still wasn't willing or ready to face my parents, and I knew Donna would be pissed at me, so I'd resorted to the only other person I could really call – Fleet- and explained the situation.

"I got caught speeding by Hale."

"Shit. Really? In the middle of the day?" It did sound a little ridiculous.

"Yeah. In the middle of the day."

"Why?"

"Because I beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend before high-tailing it out of school." There was a long pause and then Fleet let out a laugh.

"Wow. Okay. I'm just at TM right now, I'll come get you. But when I do, you gotta explain some shit to me." I nodded but then realised he couldn't hear.

"Okay," I agreed, and then, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it… I'll see you soon." After we hung up I sat in Hale's office, swinging in his chair, anxiously biting my nails as I waited for Fleet to show up. I could honestly say, that particular day was shaping up to be one of the worst in my life, but then again, lately, I'd seemed to have a lot of those. All the warring with Clay, the sneaking around, the futility of the future- it was getting to me. I vaguely wondered whether the problem was really with everything else, or if it was me. Maybe I was just depressed? I didn't get much chance to ponder this further before Hale came back in.

"You call Gemma?" He guessed, folding his arms and looking down at me.

"No… I called a friend."

"Eliza..." Hale protested.

"I'm not under arrest, so I'm free to go wherever, with whoever I want." Hale gazed down at me for a minute, apparently thinking.

"I'll have to let your parents know who you left with." But for some reason, for the first time in ages, I found I didn't care what Gemma or Clay did or didn't know. They'd find it all out anyway- Charming was a small town.

"Fine."

Not too long after this, true to his word, Fleet arrived. We were watched by David Hale as we walked down the steps out of the cop station and towards his bike. He handed me his helmet and I climbed on behind him. We sat there for a moment with the engine rumbling beneath us, not moving, and then Fleet turned his head and looked back at me.

"I guess this is overdue," He said in an almost resigned way. But then he revved his engine, relaxed on the clutch, and I was on the move again.

* * *

 **A/N: A little flashback into Eliza's experience finding her mother dead, and an insight into her psyche. Is she finally cracking under all the pressure she's been under?**


	25. We Can Work It Out

**Chapter Twenty Five: We Can Work It Out**

 _ **Life is very short  
And there's no time  
**_ _ **For fussing or fighting, my friend**_

 __ **We Can Work It Out – The Beatles ~**

"So… fill me in," Fleet requested. I felt a little strange, sitting in his apartment. He'd only just moved out of the clubhouse and he'd informed me it was only a short-term rental until he returned to Chicago- if he wasn't patched into SAMCRO. It was odd though- it felt way more personal than I'd expected, and more private than I was used to. I was truly alone with Fleet then. I sighed, recalling the events of the morning as I picked at the label on my beer bottle.

"Today is just… it's a shit day," I mumbled, not looking at him. "I'm sick of school, all the bitchy people there… I guess I just lost it."

"What did he say to you?" Fleet asked.

"Doesn't matter," I replied, because it honestly didn't. If Michael hadn't been able to tell I was upset already he never would've had the guts to say anything. And as for Jennifer and those other girls, on any other day their opinions wouldn't have even registered with me. Fleet seemed to be thinking because he didn't speak for a minute, though I still didn't look at him. When he did speak, I was relieved he didn't decide to go on asking me about what happened.

"I've been trying to talk to you for a while now," He stated.

"I know..." And I'd been avoiding it, though I'd made excuses for that even to myself. Sitting there though, just inches away, after the day I'd had- I couldn't lie to myself any more.

"You know what I'm gonna say, don't you?" He guessed. And I finally made myself look up at him.

"You have feelings for me." I stared at him, waiting for him to tell me I'd gotten it wrong, though I knew I was right. However, Fleet was always full of surprises and this was no different- he met my eyes and just nodded back in reply. I sighed. "And..."

"And, I want to join SAMCRO. I wanna stay here, in Charming. But I know, that if we… we become anything real, Clay won't allow that to happen. He, uh… He wants you to go to college. And if we were together, it'd be a reason for you to stay."

"How do you know that?" I asked, my voice a little hushed. Now it was Fleet's turn to look down, away from me.

"Gemma told me." I reached up and rubbed my eyes, suddenly very tired.

"Fleet..."

"Just… just tell me, Eliza. Tell me how I'm supposed to do this. _What_ I'm supposed to do here..." I swallowed as his cool exterior broke only for the second time ever in front of me- the first time having been at the party where he'd gotten jealous. Suddenly, when he looked back up at me, I could really see that he was only a couple of years older than me- young, out of his depth in the club organisation he'd been born a legacy of, confused by his feelings, anxious about his decisions. We were just a couple of people who were no more than teenagers then- he just happened to wear a kutte.

"I don't know, Fleet," I sighed.

"Well… what do you want? D'you think… do you want to… you know… be my girlfriend?" His dark eyes were hopeful. For a second, though, I saw them as blue- crystal clear, blue as a summer sky.

"I don't know," I repeated.

"You..."

"Jesus, Fleet. I mean…" I sighed, not really knowing what I was trying to say.

"Look, when we first met, I thought you were cute but I was just messing… trying to impress you, be this big man, 'cause I know I'm not really. All of this," Fleet indicated himself, "It's all bullshit. It's just a front. I came out here 'cause I never really knew my family, where I really came from… why I'm even in this club. Even when we were, you know… making out," He seemed to cringe at the uncoolness of the term, "I thought we were both the same. Just having fun."

"Yeah..."

"I don't know what happened, Eliza. But I… I think I'm falling in love with you." This was too much.

"Jesus Christ." I put my beer down and buried my face in my hands. After everything today, this was just a step too far. I couldn't take any more in, surely, without literally exploding. My head definitely felt like it was about to.

"Well… I mean," Fleet stammered. "How do you feel?" God how I hated his questions.

"I don't know." I felt like a stuck record.

"Well, do you think we could-"

"I. Don't. Know."

"Eliza..."

"I can't do this right now," I sighed, and stood up, ready to run out the door again. It seemed to be my modus lately, though it was out of character for me- or for who I thought I was, though I felt like I didn't even know that any more.

"Why not?" I stood where I was, not turning around to look at him.

"Fleet," I squeezed my eyes shut. As much as I might want to run away, I owed it to him at least to try and stick this out. But that didn't mean every second of it didn't suck. So, I decided to try and keep it as short and simple as possible. "I like you… I really do. We have fun together… you seem to _get_ me… but," And I heard him breathe in. "I'm a fucking mess right now. My Dad is trying to drive me out of town, I'm keeping secrets from everyone I love, I'm probably getting kicked out of school right about now and I honestly, hand on my heart, have _no idea_ what I want. I'm sorry, I really am… But I just want things to be… simple, right now. And if we…" I swallowed. "Besides, I don't want to take away your shot at being SAMCRO. It's what you want."

"Things can still be simple," He insisted weakly, but I knew he was wrong.

"If we did do this, risk it all, even if it paid off for you… I'm not even eighteen yet, Fleet. I'm not ready to be anyone's old lady… and if I was with you, that's what would happen, because of who we are, who the club are. You know it's true..." I could see my life unfolding almost exactly as Gemma's had- eighteen years old and somebody's old lady, knocked up, resigned to life as an outlaw. I was fine with the life, and I didn't want to leave town yet, but I didn't want to shut down my options either. And, even at seventeen, I was too smart not to realise that we were both probably a case of puppy love that would die out in time- but with who we were, again, it wouldn't be a case of simply breaking up. It would rock a whole harbour of boats…

Fleet seemed to take forever to speak. I was anxious as to what he might say but he simply sighed:  
"Okay… I'll back off," I could hear the disappointment, the sadness, "If that's what you want… but I want you to be able to look at me when you say it… when you know for sure."

* * *

"Shit." When I finally had the balls to go home, I'd been hoping for Gemma. I knew she wouldn't be mad at me for kicking Michael's ass, and she would be able to devise a way to keep me from taking the worst of Clay's wrath. However, when I stepped inside, the only person there was Clay himself. He was stood against the kitchen counter, holding a beer, looking exactly as if he'd been waiting for me. I noticed that he wasn't wearing his kutte and close up he looked tired. But that didn't mean I wasn't in for it. "Dad..." I began.

"Sit down, Eliza," He said, his voice surprisingly calm. I did as I was told, taking a seat at the table. Clay sat down too, at the head of the table beside me, sipping his beer and seemingly thinking about what he was going to say. He settled on: "The school called TM, and Unser called me. I know what's happened today." I looked down at my hands. Now that all the adrenaline was out of my system, thoroughly knocked out of me by my conversation with Fleet as well as the aimless driving I'd been doing while I was too afraid to go home, I had no idea what to say. When I was silent, Clay spoke again: "I've been a shitty father to you lately, Eliza. I know that." This was so far away from what I was expecting that I finally looked up at him.

"W-what?" I stammered. He sighed.

"This ain't an excuse… but a lot has been going on with the club. Some of it you know, a lot you don't. Shit's been on it's head… Charming hasn't been a safe place for you, and the day at Lumpy's, the way you handled the cops… I suddenly realised I was raising you to be a criminal. I didn't want that life for you. I wanted you to at least have a choice." It was ironic, because I'd been thinking the same thing, but my approach to this compared to my father's had been entirely different. "Last thing I wanted you to do was end up resenting me because I trapped you here… you're so bright, Eliza, talented… smart… you can do better than this. I wanted to give you a reason to leave where you wouldn't feel guilty…"

"-But-"

"I know. I know I made you think I didn't want you here. But… I told you, I've been a shitty father. I was so tangled up in what would make me feel like I did right by you, I ignored what I was actually doing to you instead. But, you know me. I've got an ego the size of California. It's not easy for me to admit I'm wrong… but I know what day it is today, Eliza, even if nobody else has put it together. I can't let you go on thinking your old man doesn't give a shit."

It'd been a while since I'd had a heart to heart with my Dad, and I definitely hadn't seen this one coming. But, after a totally overwhelming day, it almost made me tear up to know that I wasn't totally alone- my mother hadn't been totally forgotten by everyone else.

"I know I've acted like a brat, Dad," I admitted sullenly. "But I thought..."

"You're a teenage girl. You're _supposed_ to act like a brat. That's something we've all been forgetting- you're young. We can't expect you to have it together all the time, it's not fair. You need to know we're here for you, in any way we can be." Clay paused. "I know you've been working at The Rose. I also know that there's something going on between you and Fleet. I'm not telling you off for shit. I just need you to be honest. Tell me what's going on." I hesitated, trying to choose somewhere to begin. Part of me wanted to still tell Clay to go fuck himself, prying into my business after basically ignoring me, but I realised then that even though we lived under the same roof, I missed my Dad. And that was what started me talking:

"I haven't decided about college, Dad. There's a couple art schools… but I don't know if I want to move away again, especially to be on my own. I've been saving up some money from my job… I like working the bar, Dad. I enjoy it, I really do, but I know it's not gonna be enough on it's own to support myself unless I can get full time hours. I had this… not _plan_ , but idea… if I could move out of here, at least to my own place…" I babbled, not really having any aim with what I was saying. Clay interrupted, dismissing my chatter:

"What's been going on at school?" He levelled his gaze at me.

"I don't have any friends, Dad. Not there." It was the first time I'd ever really said it. "After last year with Dana and Michael and everything I just… I decided I didn't need them. They're all _kids._ And I have Donna and Fleet and stuff but… I think I was wrong." I gulped.

"You're lonely," Clay surmised. I nodded and he heaved a huge sigh. "And I've been making you feel that way at home too. Shit..."

"It's not your fault, really. I just… I've been alone my whole life. And last year, when I moved here, for a while I had people you know? And now it feels kind of like it's all gone away again."

"Eliza," Clay looked at me. "You're never on your own, honey." He sighed and there was a long pause. "I'm gonna support you, no matter what you wanna do. But there's ground rules, okay?" I nodded, ready to hear them. "Your safety is the most important thing to me, so I'm gonna have to ask you to quit The Rose-" I opened my mouth to protest, "-You turn eighteen soon. And when you do, you can have a job. Behind the bar, at the clubhouse." My mouth dropped open.

"Really?"

"Absolutely. You love working behind the bar, and at the moment we just have prospects or croweaters running it. We need someone smart, a friendly face who understands the club but who doesn't have any shade. That's why you need to turn eighteen first- we need to appear to be running a legal establishment." I nodded, understanding that. "And if, once you've graduated, you still wanna move out, that's okay too. Wherever you wanna go, or not go. Okay? Just run it by me first. Everything else… it'll work itself out, I promise." By the time he was finished talking, the biggest grin I'd worn in a long while stretched across my face. Clay grinned back.

"Thanks, Dad!" I said, hugging him. He hugged me back, seeming kind of surprised by the gesture. When I let go, he looked across at me.

"Sure," He chuckled. "So. What do you say? No more secrets, no more lies- between the both of us?" He suggested. I nodded, my smile softening to a more affectionate one.

"Of course, Dad."

"I'll figure out your school tomorrow. Just… go draw something, or whatever it is you do."

* * *

 **A/N: So Eliza doesn't know how she feels about Fleet, but finally she seems to have turned a corner with Clay! Thank you so much for waiting for this chapter. If you have the time, please drop me a review letting me know what you think, it'd mean the world!**


	26. Space Cowboy

**Chapter Twenty Six: Space Cowboy**

' _ **Cause I'm a picker, I'm a grinner  
I'm a lover and I'm a sinner  
Playing my music in the sun  
I'm a joker, I'm a smoker  
I'm a midnight toker  
I get my lovin' on the run  
~ **_**Space Cowboy – Steve Miller Band ~**

"I can't believe you're pregnant _again_ ," I said with awe. Donna was grinning sheepishly as the pair of us sat at the picnic tables outside the clubhouse one Saturday afternoon. "Right in time for you to miss out on the fun on my birthday again, too."

"I'm sorry… I've known for a while, but Opie told me to wait until it was a good time to tell people." I had figured out on my own that Opie didn't tell Donna much, or anything, about the club and what was going on. And since she was quite reluctant about it all anyway, I felt that he had made the best decision. It wasn't that she hated the guys or the idea of the MC- it seemed like the opposite. But she didn't understand what they really did, or why, to begin with. Crime and the police scared Donna, and I knew if she had any idea of the things that Opie and the others got up to she would be less than pleased about Ellie and now their new, growing baby up around it. She had simply been raised differently.

"Well, how far along are you?" I questioned curiously.

"Five and a half months," She blushed uncharacteristically. My jaw dropped open at her figure- or lack of.

"Where are you hiding it?" I cried out. Donna just laughed.

"I didn't really pop out with Ellie 'til quite a ways in," She reminded me. We were interrupted at that moment by, of all people, Tig, who had come out of the clubhouse.

"Hey dolls. You seen Clay?" He asked us.

"No," We both answered, myself without quite being able to look him in the eye. "He's not back yet." Clay had ridden off somewhere with Jax some time ago. Tig sighed and I finally looked up at him. The greyish, dismal sky behind him from this angle was a perfect counterpoint to his crystal clear eyes.

"Damn," He cursed. But then he turned an easy grin on Donna. "I heard the news this mornin'. Congratulations," He told her. Donna looked taken aback by his genuine tone.

"Um, thanks," She said. I could feel my face heating up and blushing as usual- it was bad enough I blushed around Tig anyway, but I knew Donna was never quite sure of him.

"Sure thing. See you in a bit, Kitten," Tig added, winking and squeezing my shoulder before walking away in the direction of TM. I watched him go, his relaxed, almost loping gait totally distracting to me until Donna spoke:

"I don't get him. Usually he's kind of a douche, but every now and then he says something nice..."

"That's Tig. He's a mystery," I said, hastily covering my face with my hair.

"If I didn't know you had the hots for Chibs- and Fleet, obviously- I'd suspect it was him you had the crush on." Immediately my heart began to hammer as I realised how obvious I must be making it.

"Tig?" I squeaked, then forced a laugh. "No way."

"That's just as well. I've heard some… interesting things about him, and I don't mean in a good way."

Life had definitely improved in most ways in the several weeks since I'd beaten Michael up and had that talk with Clay. I'd quit my job at The Rose like he'd asked, and true to his word I was no longer being watched like a hawk or being grounded, though I didn't exactly have many places to go. A 'friendly' visit by he and Gemma to the principle had seen me return to school two days after I lost my temper at Michael and the entire thing brushed under the carpet, with no more nasty comments from any of the other pupils, who'd all gone back to being scared or in awe of me like they had been the time I broke Dana's nose. It was still lonely but it was an improvement. I'd sent off to a couple of art programs and was now a week away from my eighteenth birthday. The only thing I hadn't figured out was Fleet. I could see him from where Donna and I were sat. He was working away underneath a car's hood in TM, totally ignoring us- almost too much. I knew that was as deliberate as my laugh when Donna suggested I had a crush on Tig.

"Haven't you spoken to him at all?" Donna asked me, evidently seeing where my gaze was going.

"Well, a little bit," I shrugged. "Normal stuff. Hey, how are you… I mean, we're not ignoring each other."

"Eliza," Donna reprimanded me, "You _need_ to tell him."

"I know." Turning it over and over in my head, analysing my own worries, I'd come to the conclusion that I was not ready for a relationship. Not least because of the reasons I'd told Fleet, but also just not within myself. I knew I liked him, but I also knew I didn't feel what he seemed to feel for me. I wasn't falling in love with him. And trying to imagine myself dating, or whatever it is we'd be doing, somebody I wasn't in love with- it didn't work. It just seemed like such a waste of my time. And yet… I hadn't been able to tell him that, much to Donna's frustration.

"I know you don't wanna hurt his feelings, but you owe it to him."

"Please. I've literally seen him fucking a croweater on the pool table in the past twelve hours. His feelings are fine," I shook my head, not telling a word of a lie.

"Stringing him along is not right and it's not fair, no matter what he does with his dick. Unless you changed your mind?" Donna added, fixing me with her all-seeing blue gaze. I sighed.

"I didn't change my mind I just… part of me knows that if I don't go there… I'll always wonder what if. You know? They say it's the things you don't do that you end up regretting..."

"That's bullshit and you know it." I had no argument for that. Because, of course, Donna was right. But even as I acknowledged that, I knew I wasn't going to talk to him about it. That was yet another thing I wasn't ready for.

* * *

 **Happy's P.O.V.**

" _Thanks for showing your face, Hap," Clay said as he hugged me in greeting._

" _I was visiting my Mom, I figured it wouldn't hurt. Glad to be here, brother," I added genuinely. It was Clay's kids' birthday. I didn't really know her, but I liked her because she didn't seem to be scared of me. That was pretty rare but then again, Gemma was practically her Mom and that woman scared the shit out of_ me.

" _Party's already kicking off. Birthday girl is in there, doing shots with Piney and Juice." This came from Bobby Elvis, chuckling proudly. The sun was just barely starting to set over Charming, so I knew we were in for a big one in the clubhouse. I nodded and headed into the noise. I expected there to be a few kids around, boys and girls Eliza's age, but I saw I was wrong. I guess she really was one of us. There were plenty of gashes though, but I ignored them 'til I was ready. Passed that kid from Chicago, looking all puppy dog eyed over the red haired girl at the bar, doing what Bobby had described._

" _Happy birthday, girl," I announced my presence, my voice making her jump and choke a little on her shot. But then she grinned up at me, all tiny and cute._

" _Thanks Happy!" She said._

" _I didn't get you a present." I didn't know what to buy an eighteen year old girl._

" _Then just do a shot with me and I'll consider that my present!" I grinned. I liked this girl. Piney waved the bitch behind the bar over and she poured four more shots. Juice counted us down and we threw 'em back. Eliza was giggling and then she seemed to spot someone over my shoulder. "See you in a bit Happy," She said, before hurrying away. I saw her rush over and throw her arms around both Jax and Opie, who looked a little baffled. I heard Piney chuckle. I saw Jax point at the short shorts Eliza was wearing, seeming like he didn't approve. Now it was my turn to chuckle- she had a nice set of legs, and it was finally legal to notice 'em. I turned back to grab a beer._

" _Don't think Jax is the only one who noticed," Juice mumbled, and that's when I realised he'd been watching too. I didn't have him down as a people-watcher, but apparently I was wrong. I looked where he was looking, and saw that douche Hobart drinking and staring. I sighed._

" _It's all downhill from here," Piney supplied, and we all knew the old man was right._

* * *

"I can't believe Clay let you out of the house like this. What the hell was he thinking?" My brother demanded as he looked disparagingly over my outfit. But I was tipsy, it was my eighteenth birthday, and I wanted to be a little showy for a change.

"He was thinking I'm eighteen now and am old enough to dress myself," I retorted tartly. Opie, stood beside him, laughed.

"Got you this. Well, Donna chose it, I'm just the messenger," Opie handed me a pink sparkly gift bag which was most unlike me. I peeked inside and laughed when I saw a plastic tiara covered in fake diamonds. There was a card inside too. I opened it up and read the message: _'Show Gemma you're queen for the day. Happy birthday!'_ Of course, I'd already gotten my real present from Donna, and it was not for anyone else's eyes- it'd come very discretely packaged the day before, delivered to the house, along with what I thought was an absurd amount of condoms for when and if I got bored of riding solo, and a severe warning text from Donna about how just because I _could_ didn't mean I _had_ to.

I stuck the tiara on my head and turned my grin on Jax. "You got me a car last year, I'm not sure how you can up your game after that."

"Well, I don't know if I upped it," Jax chuckled, "But I thought you might find this useful." He produced a velvet covered box which, when I opened it, revealed a wooden-handled Swiss army knife which had an engraving in the handle of a SAMCRO reaper. I gaped at it, looking up at Jax. "It has a bottle opener for when you're behind the bar," He explained, "And a blade for when any guys get too close." He winked at the last part then kissed me on the cheek. "Happy birthday, sis."

"Thanks Jax," I smiled. In all, my eighteenth was shaping up to be as much fun as the year before. As the night got darker everybody in the clubhouse seemed to find a moment to wish me a happy birthday, though eventually I was too drunk to really care what anyone said. Music was blasting, everyone was dancing and having fun, and for once nobody seemed to be looking over their shoulders. It was the best night any of us had had in a long time at the clubhouse. It all got too much after a while and I stumbled over to a seat in a quiet corner, collapsing into it. I watched two of everyone partying for a while, until somebody set a glass of water down on the table in front of me and sat beside me.

"Look like you could use it." In a prominent mirror image of my last birthday, I looked around to see Kyle. And with alcohol in my system, I had no trouble giving it to him straight:

"I am never going to sleep with you so you might as well fuck off right now." He actually laughed.

"Why do you always gotta think the worst of me?" He questioned, shaking his head and swigging his beer.

"Because it's easier," I slurred. "You've been a total perv to me from the second we met, and everyone has noticed."

"Even though that's true," He conceded, "I do actually value my life. I know I'm never gonna get lucky with you, Eliza." I blinked at him. This was not the conversation I had been expecting. "Sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable." He was looking out at the crowd as he said it, but I frowned. It seemed… sincere.

"So what gives?" I ended up asking after a moment. "Why'd you apologise to me now?"

"Having some shit with April. Time I stopped fucking around and tried to save my marriage."

"Right..." I had no clue why he was telling _me_ this, of all people. Kyle Hobart shrugged, looking back round at me.

"Drink that water. Have a great birthday." And then, just as suddenly as he'd arrived beside me, he was off. I watched him retreat, my drunk brain trying to figure out what the hell that conversation was about, but I was just as quickly joined by Tig.

"What did that asshole want?" He asked, glaring at Hobart's back, one hand closing over my shoulder as he stood beside my seat. I looked at that hand, covered in rings and so strong and manly.

"Just said happy birthday," I replied, which was basically all it had amounted to. Tig narrowed his blue eyes for a minute then looked down at me.

"You doin' okay, Kitten?"

"M'okay. Bit drunk," I admitted. Tig chuckled, his expression seeming to lighten.

"Alright. Maybe it's time to get you some fresh air," He suggested, not waiting for me to agree before he helped heave me out of my seat and began to guide me to the door. There were a few people outside too but it was much quieter. Tig steered me over to the picnic tables, specifically one that I realised too late that Fleet was sitting on top of, beer in hand, staring into space. Suddenly I was tugging on Tig's arm, stopping him before we could get there. He looked down at me quizzically. I didn't want to explain that I was trying to avoid Fleet tonight, so I blurted out whatever came into my head:

"Why'd you appear whenever Kyle does?" I questioned. Tig stared down at me for a minute as if pondering how to answer that question.

"You know why, Kitten. I told you. I'm here to look out for you. Especially from him." I recalled, suddenly, the night Tig had slept on the floor outside my bedroom to help me feel safe from a drunk Kyle Hobart. I blinked up at the older man who in my drunk state where I couldn't lie to myself, I _knew_ was my first love despite it being impossible, unrequited, never returned.

"Thank you." Somehow I was hugging him. Tig smelled nice, the kind of nice that made me not want to let go. He rubbed my back surprisingly gently until I did eventually let go. He flashed me a grin as he looked down at me. He said something, but everything was getting blurry- in any case, Tig, departed, leaving me stood outside breathing in the promised fresh air. And then Fleet replaced Tig beside me. His expression looked oddly resigned, even in my hazy state.

"It's him isn't it?" Fleet asked, and I knew then that he knew me better than I realised.

"Yeah," I mumbled back.

"You know that's fuckin' ridiculous?"

"I know," I agreed, shrugging uselessly. Fleet nodded stiffly and went inside, and I would remember nothing about the rest of the night.

* * *

 **A/N: Uh oh, someone other than the ever-perceptive Gemma has figured out where Eliza's true feelings lie. What comes next? And why was Kyle Hobart apologising all of a sudden?**


	27. Malibu

**Chapter Twenty Seven: Malibu**

 _ **Help me please  
Burn the sorrow from your eyes  
Oh come on, be alive again  
Don't lay down and die  
**_ **~ Malibu – Hole ~**

Things got better once I turned eighteen. I loved working behind the bar at the clubhouse, and it didn't take me long to get used to turning a blind eye to some of the debauched goings on in there. In fact, it was a pretty good source of entertainment to me. I had no more problems at school, and I got accepted into a couple of the art programs I'd applied for- though I still wasn't sure if I was going to go. A couple months passed, the weather got warmer, and I was sitting my finals. Though admittedly, there wasn't a lot of studying going on on my part. I was sat with textbooks in front of me at the picnic tables with Donna, who was due to give birth at any second, but her mind still seemed to be elsewhere. I hadn't pushed to get it out of her, knowing it wouldn't work- but Donna finally spilled as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

"Opie's not been home a lot lately… said he's got a lot of club business." I looked over at her, nodding.

"Seems like things have been kind of intense." I had been avoiding, as usual, knowing exactly what was going on but I knew things were on the edge with the Mayans again.

"I found a bunch of explosives in the garage, under some tarps… I'm not talking just a few fireworks or whatever, like those displays he sometimes does on the side for cash," Donna paused, and I could see her face was filled with worry. "Like, serious shit. When I asked him about it he flipped out. Told me not to go through his shit. Said it was for work…" She sighed, "That means the club, doesn't it?" I bit my lip. I knew she was right. Opie had to be keeping those for the club, but I didn't know any more than Donna did about that.

"And it was all just in the garage?" I repeated.

"Yeah… well, it's all gone now. I told him I didn't want that shit there, it's not safe, so he took it to the warehouse." I knew the club's warehouse fronted by a dummy corporation was actually used to store and assemble guns, for the most part. It made sense.

"I'm sure the guys know what they're doing," I told her carefully.

"I don't know… I have a real bad feeling, Eliza. Like something nasty is right around the corner." Realising that me trying to reassure her that the club wouldn't get Opie caught was the wrong tact, I changed it totally:

"It might not what you think. You know, maybe that stuff just fell off the back of a truck or they're holding it for someone…"

"Opie knows everything there is to know about explosives, Eliza. He has a record for pyrotechnic shit, a couple small arson cases that got thrown out only because of lack of evidence. If they were just holding it for someone, he's the last person they'd risk getting caught with that shit in the club. He has it because he's going to use it." I wished, not for the first time, that Donna was less intuitive. She was too smart for someone to pull the wool over the eyes of- but unfortunately, that was Opie's policy with her and it was not my place to alter that.

"Whatever it is," I said, "Don't worry about it. Just focus on you and the baby and Ellie… the guys would never let anything bad happen to Opie. You know that." She didn't look entirely convinced but she did agree to the last part.

"I know they wouldn't," She said, though the anxiety wasn't gone from her face.

* * *

The last few days of finals flew by in a haze and all of a sudden, it was summer. On top of that, right on time, Donna gave birth to the new baby. As everybody celebrated the new arrival, toasting baby Kenny at the clubhouse, I knew I had a long bright summer ahead of me before graduation- a summer I would have to figure out what I was going to do with my life. It was already edging in on my mind. Donna, my best friend, was now a mother of two; Fleet looked sure to transfer to SAMCRO now (and we barely spoke), and Jax and Wendy's wedding looked to be imminent too. Everybody around me was moving on in their life, or at least had something to be getting on with. I just didn't know if my future was remaining in Charming with my family, or if I was going to cut it at some art school miles away. My passion was art, but that didn't mean school was my only chance of pursuing it, and I just didn't know if I was even ready for that. I was running out of time to figure it out.

Jax, Piney, Chibs and Bobby were riding to the hospital with Opie to congratulate Donna and see the new baby. I had an invite but I didn't want to overwhelm Donna with visitors. The clubhouse crowd thinned out as they departed and Fleet also seemed in a hurry to get back to work before he'd be forced to maybe speak to me. My Dad was busy with Tig, going into the chapel, and Gemma too was headed back to the TM office. I was still dealing with a delivery for the bar, which I went back to, and was a little surprised when Juice came behind the bar to help me put shit away.

"You don't have to do that," I told the young biker, who grinned.

"I don't mind. You used to help me," He shrugged. He seemed not to miss being behind the bar like he had been as a Prospect. "Can't believe Opie has another kid," He said, as if this was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard in his life. I laughed.

"Him and Donna are happy together," I said, "I wouldn't be surprised if they end up with a whole football team."

"Neither would I," Juice admitted. "It's kinda nice. One of us has a little normality."

"Bobby has Precious and Tiki," I pointed out. Tiki was only a little kid too, though I didn't see him much. And in all fairness, I already agreed with Juice even before he pointed it out:

"Yeah, but Precious is crazy." I couldn't help but laugh.

"You're not wrong, Juicy…" I agreed. "Donna and Opie kinda give you hope. You know, maybe this life can work out happy. I don't catch that harmonious family vibe off Bobby or Jax, or Kyle."

"Yeah… maybe all you need is the right person." We finished working in comfortable silence. I always got on well with Juice, and could have these kinds of conversations with him when the guys weren't around- he could be quite observant and thoughtful when he wasn't being a doofus. The peace was interrupted by the dramatic exit by Tig from the chapel.

"What ya gossiping about Juicy?" Tig teased, going over to punch his young brother on the arm. "You ready to get going? Clay wants you and your fancy recording shit with us. We got recon to do."

"What on?" Juice questioned.

"Some trucks," Tig replied, tipping me a wink that made my stomach turn over. "Sorry we can't bring you along, Kitten. Those cat eyes see everything," He grinned, seemingly chipper.

"Alright, I'm coming. Let me grab my shit," Juice said, disappearing into the back.

"Cat eyes?" I asked Tig timidly. I was trying to make an effort to speak more to him instead of acting like such a silly shy kid around him. It was going reasonably well aside from the fact I wore a permanent blush when he looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes. He grinned but he didn't get to reply before Juice returned and Clay appeared.

"Lets go. Hold down the fort, honey," My Dad added to me, and I nodded and waved them off.

I wouldn't have been so relaxed if I'd known what was to come from that particular recon mission.

* * *

"I've accepted the place," I told Gemma tentatively that evening. It had been kind of spur of the moment; I sat looking at the acceptance letters from different art schools, in mild crisis about what to do with my life, when I bit the bullet and made the call to one in Bakersfield- it wasn't too far away, it had a good program, and it made me feel like I'd done something productive. "I don't know if I'll actually go until the day comes. But, now I know I have something in motion." Gemma was trimming back her plants in the conservatory as I explained this, but she smirked almost proudly.

"Look at you, big woman," She joked. "You sure this is what you want?"

"No," I laughed, "But it should keep Dad quiet… and I do like the look of it, even if..." I wasn't so sure I was cut out for further academics. I was sure I had graduated high school but it wasn't exactly with flying colours- my mind had been elsewhere, especially in the latter part of the school year.

"You know we don't really wanna see you leave, Eliza," Gemma put her secateurs down and turned to me, "But I know how much your art means to you and I think pursuing your passion… you could do worse. At least you're not going to the police academy," She added with a chuckle.

"I think the academy would hear the name 'Morrow' and run hard in the opposite direction," I returned. I hesitated after before I spoke again: "I just wanted to feel like I've figured something else out. You know, everyone else seems to have already done it..."

"But you don't really feel like you've figured it out at all," Gemma surmised. I shook my head in agreement. "The secret nobody tells you about being an adult? _Nobody_ has it figured out. Nobody's got a goddamn clue what they're doing. You just see where shit takes you, and you're lucky if what you find makes you happy." I nodded, taking in her words of wisdom. I guessed I could see what she meant- life was full of terrible shit. If you happened to come across something half decent, you had to appreciate it. I'd learned that lesson many times over in my life already.

"Thanks Gemma," I said sincerely. She smiled.

"Any time, baby."

The balmy summer evening passed pleasantly enough, though it soon became truly dark and it got later and later. It was only then that I began to see that Gemma's appearance of being relaxed and chipper was beginning to crack. Usually I would've gone up to my room already, but as the hours ticked by that night, this foreboding feeling crept up on me- Gemma was radiating it. It was almost midnight and her head had turned for the hundredth time as a car passed by whose engine was most certainly not that of Harley when I finally asked:

"Should Dad already be home by now?" It wasn't exactly strange or unusual for Clay to be out late at night. Gemma usually just went to bed unless some serious shit was going down, or he wasn't _supposed_ to be out late… Gemma gave me a grim look.

"He told me he'd be home by ten… this job was in and out."

"They had a recon thing, right?" It was as much detail as I'd been willing to overhear and that was mainly because of Tig grabbing Juice for his recording equipment earlier on at the clubhouse. Gemma's mouth became a thin line.

"That was for starters."

We sat for another hour and a half with the TV on but I could tell Gemma wasn't really watching it. I almost couldn't take the tension and was about to just go to bed when finally, at long last, the rocket-sound of a motorbike roared down the street, stopping outside the house. Gemma rushed to open the door but it wasn't Clay that walked in. It was Jax. And Jax was furious.

He stormed straight into the house, brushing Gemma off, and slammed his keys down on the side, then stood there looking down at his fist closed around them. I'd gotten to my feet without realising, but my approach was cautious. I'd seen Jax angry plenty of times, but never like this. He was so enraged that it seemed at first that he couldn't speak. He looked at his mother and opened his mouth several times but nothing came out.

"Jackson?" Gemma appealed to her son fearfully. "Jackson, tell me what's happened. Is Clay…?"

"Clay's fine," Jax managed to spit that between his teeth. He glanced towards me but for once didn't try to send me away for the news. He took a breath and seemed to gather himself, pulling himself together enough to speak: "The job went to shit. The warehouse went up, alright, but Hobart bailed. Opie was caught at the scene."

* * *

My ass was numb from my seat on the wall outside the police station. Chibs was sat beside me, rubbing tired eyes, while Gemma paced, Clay and Jax spoke in low voices, and Juice and Fleet stood stock still either side of the entrance like guards. Only Tig and Piney were missing- Tig'd been tasked with hunting Kyle Hobart down, I wasn't sure where Piney was. We'd been here all night, since Jax delivered the news to Gemma and I. Now, the sun was rising and nothing had changed. We still didn't know what Opie's immediate fate would be. Somehow, although he'd been arrested outside of Charming jurisdiction, Unser had pulled some strings to have Opie taken back home, though he was still being held.

Finally, as I blinked my tired eyes, Hale came out of the station. He looked around at all of us. All the club members immediately began crowding in to ask him questions as Chibs and I rose from our seats on the wall, and he held up his hands.

"I'm just the messenger, okay? Ope's being charged. They'll be taking him to county until his trial." This surprised nobody, but Clay still cursed.

"Shit!"

"What about Rosen?" Jax put in. He'd calmed down considerably over the course of the night but he was still clearly angry that his best friend was facing a stretch at this point- all because Kyle Hobart had bailed as his getaway driver.

"I don't know anything that went on in that room. This isn't our case. I'm just telling you what I've been told as a courtesy." Even before Hale finished speaking, another face emerged from behind him. Donna looked somehow tiny, but all the more furious for it. Her expression was dark through her red, tear-worn eyes as she glared disgustedly around at the club. My heart sank because I knew then exactly who she blamed for all of this- she blamed the reaper.

"It could be twelve years," She informed us all venomously as Hale stepped aside. "Rosen thinks he'll get eight, maybe serve only five with good behaviour, but no chance of parole after previous offences." Nobody spoke as Opie's wife made all the grown men feel about two inches tall. "I hope you're all happy. I hope you realise that Opie has a wife, and k-kids- kids that won't even remember him by the time he's free!" Donna's rare tears were overflowing again in that moment, but I knew they were tears of anger and bewilderment right then. Sadness would come later. She pushed passed all the guys, barging them out of the way. Jax tried to stop her, tried to call out to her, but she wasn't stopping.

"Donna!" I called this time. Surprisingly, she actually deigned to turn back a second to look at me.

"Piney has the kids at my house, but I can't handle them right now. Could you pick them up for me around noon?" She fired.

"I- uh, of course," I agreed, bemused, "But Donna-" She was already gone, practically flying to her car, starting the engine and speeding off. The rest of us remained where we stood, looking at each other. I caught Hale shaking his head as he finally turned and wordlessly walked back inside, leaving a ringing silence behind him.

* * *

 **A/N: So Opie has been arrested and Donna is pissed, right after Eliza promised her the club would never let anything happen to him. Famous last words! How are the club going to take this news, and what will Eliza decide to do with her future?**


	28. Many of Horror

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Many of Horror**

 _ **Sitting in a wishing hole  
Hoping it stays dry  
Feet cast in solid stone  
I got Gilligan's eyes  
**_ **~ Many of Horror – Biffy Clyro ~**

The bad atmosphere didn't change overnight. It took Tig almost a whole day to find Hobart, and he was dragged back to TM, to the clubhouse, to say his piece. I had Donna and Opie's two kids with me at the picnic tables, baby Kenny in my arms, but Hobart couldn't even look at them as he was taken inside. Everybody was tired. The stony faces of the club members passing me said it all. And Gemma had filled me in- for betraying Opie and the club, Hobart was facing excommunication at the least- and a Mayhem vote, meaning a vote on his life. Nobody had been able to track Donna down, so she hadn't been filled in on anything. That was something else we were all waiting on.

It felt like an eternity passed before church let out. And then, the same way Hobart had been dragged into the clubhouse, he was being dragged out by Tig, who took him to the middle of the lot in full view of everybody. Chibs grabbed Kyle's arms to stop him pushing them off as Jax wrestled his kutte off him and threw it onto the ground at his feet. After that it was quiet, and kind of sad, to watch Kyle leave the compound for what was undoubtedly the last time- though I still couldn't be sure whether he'd be leaving the mortal plain in a similar fashion.

Fleet walked over to me once it was all over. He looked down at the baby I was holding before he looked back into my face.

"No Mayhem," He finally answered my unspoken question. My surprise must've shown. "He argued that they would've both gone down for it. Didn't matter that Jax said he should've shown his loyalty by doing the time like Opie is… no lives were endangered. The vote was close." I knew Fleet didn't get a vote, so I could imagine how frustrating the scene must've been to watch.

"So what now?" I asked him softly.

"He's gotta black out his ink, stay out of Charming."

"Jesus." I didn't get to say any more than that. Tig walked over then, looking deep in thought. He came to a stand still beside me, though I was still sat down, and lay a large hand on my shoulder, squeezing. Absurdly, I saw Fleet tense up. Despite everything that had happened, he was still sensitive to my crush on Tig. I just hoped the older man didn't put it all together and realise.

"Piney is on his way here to watch the kids. You should make a move, Kitten." Tig's words were sombre. I looked up at him and his blue eyes met mine, though they looked very distant. "You should find their Mom." He squeezed my shoulder one more time before walking away into the clubhouse. I watched him go before turning back to Fleet. He had a funny look on his face.

"Do you think he's right?" I asked him.

"She does listen to you," He shrugged. I sighed and stood up, knowing what I had to do. I handed Kenny to Fleet.

"Keep an eye on Ellie," I told him. He held the baby like it was a grenade with the pin out, ready to go off at any second. I decided to just leave him to it, sighing as I began to make my way towards my car, but Fleet called me back before I was out of earshot:

"Eliza?" I turned around at looking at him inquiringly. I was kind of hoping he'd tell me he didn't think there was any point going after Donna because I really had no idea what I could even begin to say to her after all of this, but he just paused and shook his head. "Nothing. Good luck," He said. I knew that hadn't been what he intended at all, but I also knew whatever he'd started to say was probably just piling more shit on top of everything else so I was glad to be able to walk away that time, even if the mission I was now on was not one I had much enthusiasm for.

* * *

 _ **Donna's P.O.V.**_

 _Maybe the best place to try and hide from everybody hadn't been The Rose, the dive bar Eliza had illegally worked in before her Dad gave her the job at the clubhouse. But it had to be the only place in Charming I'd be left alone to think. Without me getting a chance to figure out how to break the news, my parents had heard about Opie's arrest and had already been on my case, demanding to know what I was going to do and making it clear they thought they'd been right all along, that Opie was bad news and I'd be better off divorcing him and taking the kids. Piney hadn't said much when he came to watch the kids so I could head down the station that morning, but I knew by the way Opie's Dad looked at me that he hoped I'd stay, but that he didn't necessarily expect me to. I didn't even want to see the rest of the club. I'd always had my doubts about it all, even back in high school when I first met Ope and Jax. I'd known even then from the rumours that SAMCRO was bad news, but somehow Opie had downplayed it all, kept things quiet, for the most part made me believe that half of what got said wasn't true- that he wasn't in any danger of any harm coming to him, or of jail time._

 _Now, of course, I knew different._

 _When I saw the fireworks hidden away in the garage I'd felt that something bad was coming. Eliza had told me I was wrong, and that the club would never let anything happen to Ope. But here we were. And I was hiding away in a bar, alone, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do._

 _I should've known that I wouldn't be alone for long though. The seat beside me in a corner booth moved and Eliza slid into it. I didn't have to look directly at her to recognise her mane of red hair. Despite our relative age gap, Eliza had become my best friend almost overnight. She didn't even seem like an eighteen year old girl most of the time. She had more life experience in some ways than I did- but more_ life _in her too. She was fun, and she seemed to get me. She sat on the fence between the club and reality. So while I wasn't really glad to see her, I also knew that it was better her than any of the others._

" _Your kids need you," She spoke after quite a long pause. I looked down at my drink. To be honest, it was just root beer- alcohol didn't seem like a good thing to throw into the mix here. "Especially since their Dad won't be around for a while." I have to admit, I was surprised she was being so blunt- then again, she never really beat around the bush. I guess she got that from her step-mother._

" _Thanks for the optimism," I responded sarcastically._

" _Opie is one of the good ones, Donna. Everyone is behind him here."_

" _But none of them are going down with him." I didn't expect Eliza to be so ready with an answer, but she was:_

" _And you know that all of them would be right there beside him, fighting, if they had been caught the way he was." And to be honest, she was right; I did know that. The one thing that had stopped me from walking away from the club completely so many times was the fact that there seemed to be so much love there. They were family to one another. It was hard to resent that._

" _You don't know what this is like, Eliza," I decided to change tact, "To have your husband thrown in jail overnight, be left to raise your kids alone for who knows how long, not even understanding what the hell he was even doing..."_

" _No, I don't," Eliza agreed, cutting me off. "But you know who does? Gemma. And Luann… And Bobby's ex-wife, and Tig's ex wife, and Chibs, who is across the ocean from his wife, and Juice's family, and Wendy..." She listed all these women, men, people, who had all been exactly where I was now. But I couldn't help but notice:_

" _Most of those people are not around anymore." I finally looked around at her. Her kind brown eyes were very serious as they met mine._

" _You're right, they're not," She agreed, "But the club is. And the ones that did make it, made it because they stuck it out with the people who understand and didn't run away to the comfort of those who don't."_ _Gemma had had two husbands in the club who'd done time. Luann Delaney I didn't know so well, but I did remember her husband Otto before he went away for what seemed to be a life sentence at this point. I didn't know much about Bobby and Tig's exes, and this was the first I'd heard of Chibs even being married. It'd never occurred to me that Juice probably had parents somewhere, or that Wendy could be more than just a junkie but someone who did after all love Jax and planned to marry him…_

" _I have to stick it out?" I almost asked. Eliza shrugged._

" _You don't have to. And I'll always be your friend, no matter what. But I don't think you'll figure it out by hiding from the problem in here."_

* * *

The next few weeks were difficult. Donna had resumed some semblance of normal life, putting on a brave front for her kids. The club were hastening to figure out ways of helping her at Opie's request, knowing she'd struggle financially if nothing else while Opie was inside. Clay wasn't around much, obviously dealing with whatever came after Opie's bust, and TM was busy too so Gemma's time was also occupied. Aside from when I tended the bar in the clubhouse, I hardly saw any of the members for longer than a few minutes at a time. I didn't see Kyle again, but Juice told me that his ink was blacked and his exile from Charming was in force. Apparently his wife April had even sided with the club when she found out what he did to Opie on top of his other betrayals. It looked like they wouldn't be married much longer.

The only person I seemed to see much of at all in the latter weeks of that summer was Wendy. She and I had never been close but she seemed better lately. Clean, though I didn't know how long that would last. And in the stress of everything else, she and Jax somehow found time to elope, though they were planning to have some kind of ceremony to celebrate the actual wedding once Gemma had found out, to her horror, that she'd missed her sons wedding. So, Wendy had thrown herself into that and was often at the clubhouse, rifling through wedding magazines. To be honest, though I'd never had much time for her, it was nice to have _some_ company. Fleet was acting odd around me again, almost like he was avoiding me- yet another thing at the back of my mind. And, I was supposed to be getting ready to go to art school.

Everything changed about a week before I was supposed to leave for Bakersfield- if I decided to ultimately go, which I had begun to believe was probably for the best given the dark atmosphere in Charming. Plus, I could do worse than try it for a semester and see how I felt. It didn't matter anymore when Jax and the rest of the guys walked into the clubhouse one night looking tense. I knew something new, and ugly, had developed:

"Ope's trial has been moved up," My brother explained without further ado.

"W-what?" I asked, shocked. It'd looked like Opie would spend ages in county before getting tried.

"It's in six days," Jax gritted his teeth. "Rosen hasn't got a lot of time to build much of a defence at this point."

"Shit," I cursed. Clay stood beside Jax and he nodded at me.

"We're gonna get Opie a good deal. I promise."

"But-" I began, but Clay cut me off.

"It's just gonna be another rough week for all of us. Church!" He called to the guys at large, who all began to file behind Clay and Jax into the chapel, leaving me stood perplexed behind the bar. As selfish as it might seem, I'd been about to remind my father that six days was exactly _one_ day before I was due to move. The moment was gone now, though, and it didn't matter anyway. I squared my shoulders to try and bring about some false strength, only to realise not all of the guys had gone- Fleet remained at the bar. I looked at him.

"Aren't you going-?" I indicated the closed door of the chapel. Fleet shook his head.

"Nah." He fiddled with a beer mat on the bar. "Get me a scotch?" He requested. I sighed and walked down the bar, fixing his drink and placing it in front of him. He downed it in one and looked up at me with his dark, lash-rimmed eyes. "What're you gonna do?" He asked me. And it occurred to me that I wasn't the only one who remembered I was starting art school- Fleet did.

"Well, I-" I stammered. "I'm all set to go," I replied more firmly. He nodded, looking down again for a second before glancing back up at me.

"I'm leaving Charming. I won't be transferring after all," Fleet informed me after a moment. Whatever I'd expected him to say, it wasn't that. I gaped stupidly at him for a second. "Just thought you should know."

"Oh I… why?" I questioned. Apparently I'd lost all ability to communicate fluently.

"It's not a good time… for SAMCRO or for me. They've got a lot of heat now… one member excommunicated, another about to be behind bars for a stretch… They can't keep a low profile if they grow their numbers and… I can't fit here anyway."

"But you were fitting just fine. I mean… the guys love you. You've done a lot with them..." I pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Fleet admitted and he actually flashed a ghost of his trademark smirk which I suddenly realised I hadn't seen in quite a while. "Look, I'm just saying… either we're both leaving Charming, or at least one of us is, regardless of anything. So you know, that stuff before, with us? It's uh… it's looking different now." He slid his empty glass towards me and shrugged before standing straight and heading towards the door. "I'll see you later," He called before he left me trying to comprehend everything that had just been imparted to me in the past ten minutes.

* * *

 **A/N: So Donna is doing her best to push forward after Opie's arrest, but what is going to happen about Eliza's plans for the future? Why has Fleet really decided to go back to Chicago? And what does he mean by it looking different now?**

 **Now lets pray to the upload gods that this goes through without any more hiccups because you guys have no idea the trouble I've had...**


	29. Nights In White Satin

**Chapter Twenty Nine: Nights In White Satin**

 _ **Beauty I'd always missed  
With these eyes before  
Just what the truth is  
I can't say anymore  
**_ **~ Nights In White Satin – The Moody Blues ~**

For the second time in my life, everything was packed up and ready to go. This time, I had more personal possessions than I used to- proof that after I moved to Charming, I actually had a life, things worth holding onto. Not everything was coming with me to art school but my clothes were packed away, so were my art supplies and books, and in the morning I'd be making the drive to Bakersfield. My Dad had promised to ride down with me, though it'd taken him several days, with everything else going on, to remember that I was even supposed to be going anywhere.

But those were things for tomorrow me to worry about. Today had been Opie's trial and soon I'd be heading to the clubhouse. Everyone would be there either celebrating or commiserating, and I wasn't working- I was due a last, fun night in Charming before I left. Even the weather felt final in some way- it was hot and balmy out, like summer's last fanfare. I wore a blue sundress but I wasn't silly enough to wear sandals in the clubhouse.

When I got there, I was surprised to see the party had already started even though it was a little early. I weaved through the crowd outside the clubhouse, trying to find someone to ask what had happened in court. Finally, I came across a reasonably merry Chibs. He threw his arm around my shoulder.

"How are ye, lass?" He said by way of greeting.

"Hey, Chibby. You seem cheerful..." I hoped that meant that things went as well as they could have for Opie. Chibs confirmed that with a nod.

"Seven years, but he'll get parole in five." I nodded and kissed the Scotsman on the cheek for telling me the news. I knew I was unlikely to get a sensible word out of anyone else the rest of the night.

After procuring myself a drink, I came across Jax. Even he looked relatively cheerful, which was such a rare sight lately that I did a double take. He grinned at me.  
"So I heard you're a married man now," I teased my brother, nudging him in the ribs as he came over to hug me in greeting.

"Yeah," He ran a hand through his long blonde hair almost bashfully, "Decided to just go ahead and do it. Mom's not pleased," He added with a chuckle.

"I know, I haven't heard the end of it yet," I informed him with raised eyebrows. "When's the formal ceremony?"

"Halloween," Jax replied, "Make sure to RSVP. I'll send your invite to your new school address." I felt my face go a little red when he said that. If truth be told, I was getting increasingly nervous about going away and was second-guessing my decision to go ahead with it. But I knew better than to voice those anxieties- most of them were pretty normal ways to be feeling right now, anyway.

"I'll have my costume ready," I quipped, before Jax's attention got hijacked by something else. I headed to the bar and was handed a drink. I stood there for a minute, drinking my beer and taking in the general festivities- really, everybody needed the blowout after such a stressful period- and was so distracted watching everyone socialise that I almost jumped out of my skin when I looked to my left and noticed that Happy Lowman was suddenly stood right beside me, surveying the scene right along with me. He caught my eye when he saw I'd noticed him and offered me a rare, fleeting grin.

"Hey kid. Heard you're off to draw pictures," He rasped in his husky voice. I smiled back at him- Happy was a tattooist and been responsible for a couple of the small ones that I'd acquired already- ones that you wouldn't see if you just glanced my way, like the daisy chain on my ankle for example.

"Yeah. I leave tomorrow midday," I explained. The drive was a couple of hours and I didn't have to check into my dorm room 'til six in the evening.

"Should enjoy the party," Happy recommended, indicating the crowd with a nod.

"Oh, I intend to," I joked, raising my beer and downing the rest of the bottle fast before calling for another. It wasn't just SAMCRO members who needed to blow off steam.

By the time it began to get late, things were beginning to turn as raucous as ever when you put a bunch of bikers in the same place. I sang songs with a drunk Bobby, listened to Piney's stories, watched Juice hook up with a croweater, witnessed Jax disappearing into the night to return home to his new wife, and Chibs commentated merrily on what everybody else was up to in the background while Happy and Tig sparred for fun in the boxing ring for a while. Everybody else at the party danced and laughed, and it turned into a loud, entertaining night at the clubhouse. Clay sat back on the sidelines watching everything, kind of like I was. The only member of the club I didn't really speak to all night was Fleet, though he was in the background.

I was contemplating him, in fact, as it neared midnight. He didn't seem his usual cocky self, and in my tipsy state I kept thinking about what he'd said to me the week before- about the fact that our restrictions were no longer there now that he was returning to Chicago and I was supposedly leaving town anyway. Obviously, with us being on opposite sides of the country, I was no longer at risk of becoming his old lady. That was a blessing, but I knew as well as he did that things between us were somewhat unfinished. Was I in love with Fleetwood Janowitz? No. I knew what love looked like- it was Donna and Opie; Clay and Gemma. I'd never felt that. But the man that I thought I might feel that for, in some tiny, distant part of my still-teenage mind- that was clearly never going to happen. Tig Trager didn't know I existed. Right?

I glanced around and I couldn't see Tig anywhere. He'd probably snuck off with a croweater or something… I never allowed myself to fantasise, knowing that there was no point. But, given I'd switched from beer to vodka some hours before, I was drunker than I originally thought and forbidden images flooded it. Myself alone with Tig, Tig pressing his lips to mine, his strong hands running over my body, his voice in my ear… I felt my face flush and I dropped my gaze to the bar in front of me, where my glass rested between my hands. It wasn't just lust, though. The more dangerous fantasies of Tig and I were the ones where we got to sit and talk endlessly. Where he listened to what I had to say and cared, like he already did on occasion, but something more real than me being Clay's daughter…

It was stupid because I knew it was never going to happen. And I knew that by even thinking about doing this, I was going to make an ass of myself. But I was draining my glass and looking for him. Fleet totally left my mind. I needed to find Tig. I needed to tell him… how I felt? No, that was something I could never do. But I needed to know whether it really was as impossible as I thought. And any embarrassment I felt would die off by the time I came back to Charming for Winter Break…

I wound my way through the clubhouse, into the back area. The kitchen was empty. One dorm room was occupied by Juice and his croweater, another by a couple other women who were in there talking about something, and another was empty… one of the hangarounds was taking coke in the bathroom with the door wide open. I knew Tig wasn't outside or in the main party so I did all I could do and headed up to the roof. I just prayed on the way up there that he didn't have a woman with him.

Sure enough, Tig was alone up there. He was talking on his cell phone and looked pissed off, a bottle of beer clutched in the hand his phone wasn't in. I caught the tail end of what he was saying.  
"… You're full of shit, Colleen. You are… _I'm_ a drunk asshole? Woman, you don't need drink to be a total bitch… look… whatever. I'll send the money. Tell the girls I love them." He flipped the phone shut aggressively and huffed out a frustrated breath, squeezing his blue eyes shut. It was only once he reopened them that he noticed me stood there. For a second he still looked pissed and I thought he might snap at me for sneaking up on him and listening to his private conversations. But then his expression lightened a bit.

"Sorry Kitten," He said a little gruffly, "Damn ex wife..."

"Yeah..." I suddenly felt like a total moron. What the hell did I think I was doing? Here was a grown man with an ex wife and two daughters practically the same age as I was. He didn't want to hear my teenage ramblings about my supposed feelings. Tig swigged his beer and raised an eyebrow at me questioningly.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Y-yeah," I replied with a slight stammer, "Just needed some air.." Tig nodded, but his blue eyes sparkled a bit.

"Something on your mind, Kitten?" I knew now that I was faced with him, stood barely a foot away, that there was no way I could tell him what I originally came to find him for. Still, I heard myself speaking:

"I just… I go away tomorrow. I was going to do something… or trying to figure out if I should. But… what if it isn't what I want it to be? You know?" I was talking about speaking to him, in a roundabout way. His eyes were right on my face and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again. I hated that I blushed so easily, especially around Tig. I hoped he couldn't tell since it was dark out. I also hoped he couldn't tell the reason- those blue eyes sometimes felt like they saw right into your mind. And for a scary moment, he looked all-knowing. I gulped as he began to speak.

"It's good to think before you act. But you can think too much, doll. You're smart. You know what you want… and it's gotta have been building up for a while." I stared back at him, slowly realising that he (luckily) had no idea what I was really talking about.

"So… you think I should..."

"It's okay to just do what feels good sometimes. So what if it's a mistake? You only have one life. Can't get everything right." I blinked, by now confused. It sounded like he was talking about…

"Don't let your Dad, or anyone, control what you feel like doing. You're a big girl, Kitten. No-one knows you better than you do… go have fun. Be young. I know he will." Yep. Tig was talking about sex. And he was talking about… "It's Fleet, right? You're both leavin'."

"Tig..." I was cringing on the inside. Tig Trager of all people was recommending I go ahead and fuck some other guy.

"If he does anything to hurt you, doll, send me his way." Somehow he was hugging me, kissing me on the cheek, and walking away. As if that was the most normal conversation to have in the world. But I was still pretty tipsy and unable to really accept what he'd said…

But maybe it was the answer I'd been looking for. I stood on the roof a little longer, looking out over TM and the compound. I could hear the music coming from downstairs. But my mind was on what Tig had left me with and I suddenly got it. Yes, Tig and I were never going to happen. I'd known it all along, and he was all but encouraging me to jump into bed with someone else, which only confirmed it. But he was also right about something, just like Fleet had said. There were no consequences to be had. Fleet was leaving and so was I. And I trusted him. He was there whenever I called. Maybe I didn't love him and maybe it made me selfish for thinking this, but I knew he at least loved me. And physically, I was ready. It was only because of my hang ups, my fear of being an old lady at eighteen, trapped into the outlaw life before I'd decided it was what I wanted, that had stopped things when they went too far, got too heavy and too close between us…

Downstairs, I made my way through the throngs of people. I felt different now. Strangely, I felt powerful. I located Fleet by the picnic tables, his hip propped on one, his eyes on the conversation Piney was having with one of the TM mechanics about something or other, but I could tell he wasn't listening. When I stopped beside him he looked down at me, his dark eyes almost resigned.

"Hey," He greeted me, "I guess this is gonna be it?" He guessed. But I shook my head.

"Not yet." I took his drink out of his hand and swallowed the last drops in there before placing the glass down on the table beside us. "Take me to yours." He stared down at me, looking as if he was trying to comprehend a foreign language.

"What?" He finally asked.

"You know… that stuff before with us?" I mirrored his words from almost a week before. "It's looking different now." It amazed me that it'd taken me so many days to figure out what he meant. For a fleeting moment he looked happy, but then his brow furrowed.

"Are you drunk?" He questioned anxiously.

"A bit," I admitted. "Aren't you?"

"A little," Fleet replied, but he was grinning a little now.

"I think that'll be a blessing. Are we going?" I questioned again, determined not to let insecurity set in and think he might consider rejecting me after everything that'd gone down between the two of us.

"I'll get us a cab." Even though he wasn't completely sloshed, he knew I'd never get on his bike if he was over the limit- and Clay would kill him for trying to convince me I should. Fleet kissed my cheek before he stepped away to call for a cab, and my skin tingled where his lips touched- inadvertently the same spot that Tig had kissed up on the roof. I was waiting for the nerves and regret to start sinking in already, but there was none. Despite my concluding, at last, how I felt for Fleet- I could feel that this was right.

As I wandered away while Fleet arranged our ride, I thought my plan was thwarted when Clay came out of the clubhouse. He saw who I'd just been standing with and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Going somewhere?" He enquired. I swallowed, but I decided it was pointless to lie.

"Fleet's," I answered. My Dad sighed and I saw the internal battle going on in his face. But somehow, his reply was even, almost resigned:

"Make sure you're back well before noon," He requested. "We got a long drive."

"I'm not going, Dad." I didn't know where that came from. Just moments ago I was decided on leaving for art school but the new, powerful me who trusted her intuition suddenly realised what I really wanted- what the best move for me was. "I'm not ready to leave." Clay surveyed me closely for a minute, obviously trying to gage how much of what I was saying was alcohol-related, but I think he could tell that even with the cushion of a vodka buzz, my mind was clear.

"He's still going back to Chicago." I heard the unspoken part of this sentence- the _'especially after tonight'_ part that Fleet and I had always known would be implicit.

"I know," I replied easily. Clay nodded, his jaw set, but I could tell he was ignoring his fatherly instincts in order not to stand in the way of me growing up. It had to be hard for him. He didn't say anything after that, probably not able to stomach seeing his only daughter literally leaving the party to lose her virginity- especially as he'd basically just given his permission for it to happen. That was the kind of uncomfortable dynamic that only existed in royalty and outlaw culture, I guessed. I was as glad that conversation was over as Clay was.

"Cab's here," Fleet was back at my side. I nodded, looking up at him.

"Let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: Consecutive updates for the first time in forever! Yay! So, a lot happened here. Eliza almost revealed her feelings to Tig, only for him to somehow inadvertently convince her to sleep with Fleet. Is she making a bad choice? Will she regret it?**


	30. Heaven For The Weather

**Chapter Thirty: Heaven For The Weather**

 _ **I want to go to heaven for the weather  
But hell for the company  
I want to go to heaven for the weather  
But hell seems like fun to me  
**_ **~ Heaven For The Weather – The Streets ~**

At Fleet's apartment, I was nervous. We headed into the bedroom and he turned on only the bedside lamp, which cast everything into soft light. Fleet shrugged off his kutte before he stepped up to me. For a moment he looked as nervous as I suddenly felt.

"Are you sure?" He asked me. But my mind was made up and I nodded, kissing him.

He kissed me back, his hands combing through my hair before going to my waist then the hem of mydress, pulling it up and over my head, leaving me in my underwear. I guess he had been waiting for long enough. His lips moved to my neck, and I let him, as I tugged at his shirt and he removed it. Fleet was pretty slim in build but not skinny- his body was fairly toned. His hands on my skin were gentle but hungry and almost before I knew what was happening I was beneath him on the bed with Fleet peppering my body with kisses. And in another flash, we were both totally naked. It was then that he pulled back again.

"I've been waiting for this," He told me softly, staring into my eyes.

"I know," I whispered back. I was still nervous, but it wasn't because of anything he had done. Somehow, it all felt very momentous all of a sudden.

"You don't have to say it back," I could feel him testing my entrance then, and I bit my bottom lip between my teeth, physically anticipating what was about to happen. "But I love you, Eliza Morrow." I was thanking a God I didn't know if I even believed in that he had already told me I didn't have to say it back. Because even as I tried to respond, say something, be in the moment with him, my throat constricted and nothing could come out. So I just closed my eyes, buried my face in his shoulder, and clenched my jaw and curled my toes as with a brief stab of pain, Fleet took my virginity.

* * *

The morning brought a new day with it, and it also saw me returning home, letting myself into the house with Fleet behind me. Gemma was sat at the table with Jax, and when I saw my brother sitting there I felt my stomach lurch nervously on Fleet's behalf. Jax's eyes scanned his fellow biker without warmth, but he barely grimaced and miraculously made no comment.

"Clay said you changed your mind about school," He said by way of greeting instead as I walked over to the table. I glanced at Fleet- we hadn't exactly had this conversation, but he didn't even look surprised.

"Yeah… maybe next year." I knew I could defer, at least for now.

"You sure you know what you want, sis? Why you're staying?" Jax's gaze went a little hard as he glanced at Fleet. But I knew what that meant; even if Fleet hadn't already said he was returning to Chicago, he _had_ to now. But I nodded.

"I'll figure something out. Get a second job or something… Charming is my home." Jax finally looked satisfied as he took a sip of coffee.

"Well I'm glad I'll still have ya around," He said. I smiled kind of awkwardly. Gemma had said nothing so far, just sat back and observed the entire exchange including Fleet's facial expressions. I knew she would have an abundance to say about it all once the guys were gone, of course, and I couldn't say I was necessarily looking forward to her analysis.

"I'm gonna make a move," Fleet announced, mainly looking at me. "I'll uh, see you soon," He told me. I nodded.

"See you," Came my uneasy reply.

"Later brother," Jax bade him somewhat stiffly, but this was still a more reasonable response than I could've wished for. Gemma just flashed a knowing smile and waved before he exited out the door. This left me stood in front of my step-mother and step-brother, feeling kind of like a zoo animal as they both surveyed me. I felt myself flushing.

"I'm going to take a shower," I excused myself, rapidly vanishing up the stairs to do just that. As I stepped under the hot water, I thought about the night before.

Once the pain had dissipated, I had finally closed off the outside and focused on the experience. Fleet had been surprisingly considerate, though I was sure it was normal for a first-timer that I spent most of it wondering what I should actually be doing. Still, he seemed to enjoy it and so did I- today my body somehow felt new. I felt more in control of it. And yet it was foreign to me. I was slightly sore between the legs, though it was almost a pleasant ache. My skin almost felt a warmer place to live in. And inside I was bubbling with the feeling that I had been let in on a secret- one that I'd heard other girls talk about, like when I was friends with Dana for instance and when I listened in on the croweaters- the secret of sex. It had been nothing like I imagined and yet…

I didn't regret sleeping with Fleet of all people. No part of me wanted to take back the night before, or wished I could replace him with anyone else. Before he'd taken me home that morning we'd even been chatty, laughing together like the friends we actually were when it came down to it. The awkwardness had only settled in once faced with Gemma and Jax. The previous night had left me with only one regret, and that was the fact that I didn't feel the same as the person I had spent it with. The fact I couldn't even say it back, even on a pretence. The fact I'd had to look way when he met my eyes because I couldn't stand to see him so open when I would always be a closed book to him. Maybe to anyone. I was too young to know, yet…

The water was practically cold by the time I stepped out of the shower, but I did feel more human. I dried myself off, put clean clothes on, brushed out and dried my long red hair and headed back downstairs. Jax had left and Clay was already out, but as expected Gemma was waiting for me with a mug of coffee and questions. She smirked at me as I sat down for the inevitable inquisition.

"How was it?" She asked while raising an eyebrow. I blushed, looking into my cup.

"It was..." I didn't really know what word I was looking for here. I glanced up at Gemma but she seemed to get it. She nodded.

"I was the same, after my first time," She told me, taking me kind of by surprise as I hadn't expected her to talk about herself, just ask me questions.

"Really?" I asked, despite myself. Gemma smiled and nodded again.

"Yeah. Don't worry, it gets better. Especially when you're with someone you actually care about." It was the same speech every parent gave you, about saving sex for someone you loved, yet it rang true now way more than it ever had.

"Was your first time with John?" I thought it might be a stupid question. I couldn't imagine a time where Gemma was wide-eyed and innocent, somehow, maybe dating some boy in high school before she met John Teller aged eighteen. But Gemma took me by surprise again:

"Yeah, it was," She admitted. I felt my eyes pop open wider and my step-mother laughed at me. "It wasn't that I was a prude. I just… it was a different time. My folks were religious, as much as I defied them...it's not like we waited for marriage, but I've never really been the one night stand type. I knew I loved John already when I slept with him." I listened to what she said, and I thought I understood. It seemed to be true that Gemma didn't exactly run through men as much as the men around us ran through women- she had gone right from a marriage to John into one with Clay. I somehow knew they weren't her only partners, but I also knew that her relationships with them came above whatever happened physically. I didn't know what to say to her story, but Gemma filled in the silence with one of the questions I'd anticipated:

"So, what about you and Fleet? I heard he's going back home."

"He is," I answered. Gemma gave me an x-ray vision look. "I'm okay with it. Actually, that was what made it… it's for the best," I finished lamely. There was no way that I was going to tell her about the things Tig had said to me on the roof- I loved Gemma but I had to have _some_ things only for myself.

"I guess I get that. The guys don't seem like they're gonna flay him alive, either."

"I was counting on that," I admitted with a small smile.

"Fleet's a good guy. But he isn't the one for you, Eliza. He's your _almost."_

"My…?"

"Like your Mom was for your Dad… like Fiona for Chibs… Wendy for Jax… they're _almost_ the right person for you. Just not quite there." I was more than a little surprise at her including Wendy and Jax in that, since Gemma had been the one pushing them into getting married for so long now.

"Was John Teller your almost?" I hoped I wasn't pushing too hard by asking that, and luckily Gemma didn't seem to be offended by the question.

"No. He was perfect… back then. But when you fall in love with someone else, that changes things. Or, when you're already in love with someone else." Gemma gave me a significant look and I knew then that she had an inkling of the truth behind my decision to bite the bullet the night before. Luckily, she spared me the lecture.

* * *

I never knew, the morning that Fleet dropped me off, that it'd be the last time I saw him for a decade. But somehow a couple of months seemed to fly by. I got a second job working in an office in town, one which was boring but paid reasonably well, and I never seemed to really have a whole lot of time for socialising. I saw all the guys regularly as I continued to tend the bar at the clubhouse and we had a couple of lockdowns. Somehow, before I knew it, it was Christmastime.

I didn't have work that day, but I was at the clubhouse early in the morning, beginning to string up the yearly decorations to brighten the place up. We still had a week to go until Christmas itself, but I hadn't found much time to get this done before then and it had become apparent none of the guys were going to get around to it. Mercifully the night before had been quiet so there wasn't much mess to clear up. I was on a step-ladder, hanging a string of lights above the bar, when Tig unexpectedly emerged from the back. He looked just as surprised to see me.

"Hey Kitten," He greeted me with half a smirk. I noticed he was finishing buttoning up his shirt and averted my gaze.

"Hey. Sorry… I didn't know you were here," I admitted. More often than not, Tig did stay at the clubhouse. Actually, I wasn't sure he even bothered keeping a place anymore. It was best not to leave the place empty at any rate, and Tig was the eternal bachelor- he had no strings keeping him at home.

"It's okay. Shit. I guess it's that time of year," His blue eyes ran over the scene, taking it all in.

"Kind of snuck up on me this year," I said as I finally achieved hanging the lights and climbed down off the ladder to step back and admire my handiwork.

"That happens with age," He winked. I suddenly realised it was the first time I'd been in a room with Tig alone since the night I'd foolishly decided to try and tell him I had feelings for him- the night where he unknowingly convinced me instead to sleep with Fleet. And strangely enough, although I still had a raging crush on him, for the first time ever I didn't feel embarrassed or shy in front of him. At least- not like this, when he was making ordinary small talk with me. I guess faking it 'til I made it actually worked- the effort I'd put into acting normally around Tig Trager had paid off in me finally feeling somewhat normal when he was around.

"Any plans for the holidays?" I asked him in a friendly way.

"Me? The usual. Whiskey and a couple whores I guess," But he flashed his teeth in a grin as he said it. "Nah… I already sent money to my girls. I'll just be here, same as always." I nodded. Christmas was a time for family even for the Sons, and Tig didn't really have any. I knew Jax and Wendy would be joining myself, Gemma and Clay for the day, but I hadn't given much thought to anyone else's plans, though everybody usually convened in the evening at the clubhouse anyway.

"Well… I guess I'll see you then," I said, as I headed over to begin throwing baubles on the plastic Christmas tree I'd set up in the corner.

"Yeah… Thanks for pimping the place out, Kitten," Tig added as he sauntered out through the clubhouse doors, his hand giving my back the merest brush as he passed me by.

* * *

"Remember that first Christmas you spent with us?" Jax and I were laid out on the couch side by side, both of our tummies stuffed with Gemma's delicious feast. I thought back all those years ago. I'd been about eight years old at the time, and Jax had been a teenager. "You were ready to keel over and die when you saw all the presents you'd gotten." I smiled at the memory.

"I'd never really had a Christmas before, you know? Normally got something off Mom and Dad but nothing like that." The plethora of gifts had entirely overwhelmed my brain. I hadn't known what to do with any of it.

"I remember Otto coming by later and Luann was drunk off her ass. She was trying to teach you sexy dance moves. Clay put a stop to _that,"_ Jax laughed at the memory. I couldn't help but laugh too.

"Luann wasn't the only one drunk off her ass," I recalled. Jax had put in a good effort too that year- I vividly remembered him puking all over Gemma's new rug.

"I really thought nobody could tell I was smashed," He shook his head at his teenage antics. "First and last time I ever drank Irish Cream."

"Don't want some now then?" Wendy had just joined us and waved a glass of the very stuff in our direction teasingly. Jax cringed.

"I'll stick with the beer," He gestured to the bottle he had sat on the coffee table before us.

"I have to say, I never expected today to go so smoothly." Something nearly always went wrong when the entire Teller-Morrow gang got together; I'd been waiting for Jax to get moody over something Clay said, Clay to snap at me over something, or for Gemma to start an argument with Wendy. But so far the day had been full of suspiciously good cheer.

"Don't speak too soon, sis," Jax warned, chuckling slightly.

"There's nothing we can do or say to make a difference. We know disaster is lurking around the corner," Wendy said ominously, making all of us laugh. It was as if the universe was listening. Clay was on his way into the room with a beer of his own when his cell rang. He grunted and got it out of his pocket, gritting his teeth in a gesture I'd inherited.

"This better be good," My father mumbled, putting the phone to his ear. "Yeah?" He listened to whoever it was on the other end of the line intently for a moment. "Shit. Fine. Thanks." He sounded anything but thankful as he hung up the call and looked around at us all. "We gotta go. Pack a bag Eliza. Lockdown."

* * *

 **A/N: I have no excuses for how long this took me to get out except for horrific writers block and a lack of time and energy. So Fleet is good and life is moving on again for Eliza. What drama will this Christmas lockdown bring?**


End file.
